Bleeding through the Seams
by Fraying Threads
Summary: Portgas D. Ace stared at his reflection, eyes bloodshot. He felt a bone-deep weariness prick at the edges of his mind. No one would come for him. He had made sure of it.
1. Infirmary

**Hey there...**

**Oh someone stop me. I have another story ongoing but this little plot bunny won't leave me alone. It's been haunting me for the past fosew days that I just had to give in. :(**

**Ah, well. What-to-do. When you can't beat them, join them.**

**Summary: Portgas D. Ace has always been the big brother. The one with all the solutions. The strong one. Now, as the youngest brother, everything has been perfect. Yet, he suddenly finds himself falling behind. Nothing has changed, but he's steadily falling into a pit of despair and he doesn't understand why. The D. in him tries to keep himself afloat but, given enough time, even the waves can outwill a D.**

**Rated for language.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

"_Everything you can imagine is real." – Pablo Picasso_

It was dark and the cold seemed to seep in through the cracks in the bedroom, curling through the air, lending the darkness a heavier feel. The room was a mess. Stacks of jumbled up papers littered the floor, pushed aside in favour of a quicker route to the bed. A pillow hung off the side of a half-open drawer. The only mirror in the room was a shattered mess with broken pieces of glass strewn across the wooden surface.

A Portgas D. Ace laid at a corner of the bed. He lowered the arm that covered his eyes, blinking at the little light that entered his room. For all he knew, it could still be daytime. The weather made day and night exist as if they were the same.

The Moby Dick swayed with the lapping of the waves. They were in one of those parts of the Grand Line where it snowed for days on end. After a week of continued storm or snow-day, the crew was exhausted. Ace curled up tighter on the mattress. He could hear the soft laughter and slow footsteps outside. Probably heading to the mess hall for breakfast…or dinner.

_Thanks for remembering me,_ he thought. A surge of bitter frustration welled up inside him. He didn't get it. He wasn't upset- at least, there was nothing to be upset about. Nothing had changed. He wasn't even hungry.

His brothers and sisters, and father (he still feels that awed disbelief whenever he remembers his adopted father), were probably too busy handling the cursed climate to take note of him. There were so many of them, after all. He was just one of the sons.

He felt a certain wetness prick at his eyes. The very thought tugged at the deeper recesses of his heart. Why…did that hurt him? He pressed a finger to his eye and blinked in surprise. Why was he crying?

_Don't be selfish, Ace_, he told himself. _It's not about you._

He turned over and buried his head in his arm.

_It never has been._

Ace fell asleep before he could berate himself for that thought.

* * *

Annoyance rippled through the first division commander. He stalked through the halls as he headed straight for Ace's room.

"Come on, Marco. I'm sure he has a good reason for it," Thatch placated behind him.

Marco spared him a glare. "I'm sure," he retorted sarcastically. "We've been plagued by bloody storms and did you see him anywhere?" He held up a hand to stop the fourth commander's attempt to answer. "No, you didn't. _No one_ has seen him. Last I checked, everyone has a responsibility topitch in so we don't _fucking_ sink. And he_ didn't help_."

Thatch pouted. "You didn't even try to let me answer."

"Oh, did you see him then?"

A pause. "No…"

Marco's eyebrow twitched. "There you have it. Now leave it, Thatch. He's going to get what's coming to him."

The other pirate sighed. Of course Marco would not have let Ace get away with it. He was so uptight about everything. With the frown on the fire-user's face, Thatch wasn't sure if he pitied his youngest brother then or whether he wanted to join in the ire with Marco. The storms had been bad. They had needed all the help they could get. And Ace was worth more than twenty men in terms of his skills alone.

They turned a corner. "Maybe he's sick?" Thatch finally volunteered.

Marco's tense shoulders slumped a little. He didn't answer for a moment. "You don't think..?" he said softly. The thought of their brother in pain without anyone knowing made him feel faintly ill.

"I don't know. This is Ace. He could have fallen overboard for all I know."

Both of them froze.

"Oh _shit_."

They took off running.

* * *

Ace awoke to loud knocks on his door. He sighed, feeling a particular lethargy try to pull him back into the abyss. He tried to put his arm out to sit up, but the drained tiredness he felt shocked him into dropping back onto the bed.

The knocks turned to frantic pounding. He was sure he heard faint calls behind the door too, though he couldn't make out what they said.

_Just five minutes_, he promised to himself. _I'll get up in five…minutes…_

He felt himself drift back to sleep. In his half-conscious state, he didn't realise five minutes was too long for anyone to wait for him to get the door. A sharp bang later jerked him back into semi-awareness. He groaned softly. Who was making so much noise? Ace would have burned them if he hadn't felt so bone-tired.

"Ace?!"

Someone – or two someones – ran into the room. There was a sharp inhalation from one of them, but Ace couldn't be bothered to even turn to see who the intruders were.

A hand touched his shoulder. "Ace?" the person asked. He sighed again. Demanding his stubborn body to obey his will, he slowly sat up, elbows on his knees, eyeing his two visitors warily. They had come to his room. It was the least he could do, after all.

"Hey, are you okay?" Thatch was asking him.

Ace blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you guys need something?"

The grip on his shoulder became more firm. Ace almost winced at the force behind it. He trailed his gaze to meet Marco's enraged ones. "Marco?" he asked uncertainly.

"Did we need anything?" Marco repeated. His voice was like thunder in the stillness of the room. Ace wondered if they could hear the the beginnings of the pounding of his heart. "_Where have you been?_"

Ace nearly cringed at the accusation in the first commander's words. His mouth felt dry. Of course he was burdening them until the end. Why hadn't he helped them through the storms? Whatever faint hope he felt that they had come see him out of worry shrivelled up pitifully. He wasn't worth this trouble.

He mumbled, "I'm sorry." He missed the shared look of concern between the two older pirates. "I'll get up now."

As he made to get off his bed, Marco's arm that had yet to move from his shoulder shot out to stop him. The elder pirate lowered himself to his knees, two calm blue eyes meeting his coolly. "Ace, are you alright?"

Ace looked away. "I said I'm fine, Marco," he answered softly. "I should help with…whatever's going on on the ship." However, the elder's arm and Thatch moving to sit beside Ace prevented the youngest pirate from moving.

"Where have you been all this time?"

"…here."

"And what have you been doing in your room?" The question was quiet. Such innocent words.

Ace breathed deeply. His eyes slipped closed as a heavy feeling sank in his stomach. He could feel the penetrating gaze as Marco continued to stare him down, and Thatch's hopeful ones that he probably had a good, justifiable answer as to why he didn't help around the ship like he should have. The freckled teen wanted to curl back into a ball and disappear from the disappointment he was sure was there. What was going on? He was so happy just a week ago. Bouncing from one corner of the ship to the other, driving his brothers and sisters mad, laughing and generally going crazy like he had always wanted to be. What had changed?

"I…just-just here," he whispered.

He stiffened when an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Nimble fingers pressed into his back soothingly.

"Thatch? Marco?" he asked, unable to hide the uncertainty and fear in his voice.

Marco stood up, brushing imaginary lint off his pants. Pulling a confused Ace to his feet, the first commander had to steady him as Ace almost stumbled into him. "Come on. We're getting you to the infirmary."

Ace almost spluttered. "What? I'm not sick!"

Thatch ruffled his hair patronisingly. "I'm sure. You look like you're about to drop."

"I said I'm not-"

Thatch laughed that deep-rumble-in-his-throat laugh. Not quite the one he used when pranking others, but the one Ace recognised from when he tried to soothing a scared child they occasionally came across…or a hysterical brother/sister. "For us?"

Ace hesitated. For them…? If put that way, he didn't really have a choice. He hung his head. His shoulders slumped, defeated. "Okay."

Both Marco and Thatch shuffled him out of the room he had holed himself up in for the past few days (excluding the occasional trips to the kitchen and washroom, which had become fewer as the nights went by), except for the brief moment when Marco – _Marco_ – had paused to push some stray locks of his hair to the side as Thatch dropped his cowboy hat onto his head. He flushed. What was wrong with him?

"Come on, let's go."

Ace never realised both his brothers didn't drop their hands from his shoulder and arm the entire journey to the infirmary.

* * *

**Oh dear. Ace is pretty oblivious to his friends' concern, isn't he?**

**Please leave a review, if you could! :)**


	2. Fear like a Jagged Glass

**Hey guys!**

**First and foremost, thank you for the reviews, story alerts and favourites! I love, LOVE, you all. Made my day, really. It's like the Sun just got brighter... Okay, so I'm dramatic. What did you expect from us readers/writers?**

**To **sam-free15**, I can honestly say I don't know. I'm sorry! Please don't hate me. I love Ace too. :( I can't help that he has to suffer a little bit...a lot... Oops?****  
**

**To **XxFire-PhoenixxX**, You're not the only one. I just love those fics where they worry to bits about Ace. It's really too bad it's so hard to find fics like those here.**

**Anyway, on to the story! Please enjoy, and feel free to bombard me with questions.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

"…_the heart has no tears to give – it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence." – Harriet Beecher Stowe, Uncle Tom's Cabin_

"Hey, Thatch. Marco," Ace greeted almost glumly as he seated himself across from them for dinner.

Thatch's responding smile was nearly blinding. "Ace! You're eating with us today?"

Ace trailed his gaze upwards to look at the fourth commander's expectant look. A sort of guilt twisted inside him. Had he been that absent around the ship? "Yeah," he muttered, looking down on his plate. He suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

He had been released from the infirmary two days ago, with stern reminders from the nurse to eat daily – which meant his usual intake of food to fill his bottomless pit instead of one lone full plate which he started to consume per meal during his…self-confinement – and to get plenty of rest. He had only sported a slight fever, but even then his two closest friends refused to believe that that was all.

Ace felt two pairs of eyes watching him, and he quelled the urge to cringe under their gaze. Something was happening. Something…was changing. But what was it?

He cleared his throat, unable to stand the stifling silence that had befallen them. "You're not…" he trailed off, suddenly uncertain of what to say. He met Thatch's eager gaze. He continued his pathetic attempt at making conversation. "…eating?"

Thatch's face fell but brightened a moment later. "Of course we are! No good food should go to waste. I hate it when that happens." He shot another smile that completely overflowed with friendliness at Ace, waiting for his freckled brother to return it before he dug in.

Ace watched him for a moment, picking at his own food slowly, a faint nausea swirling in his stomach. He really didn't feel like eating. He already skipped breakfast and left halfway through lunch. A thought occurred to him.

_I didn't finish my lunch today_, he thought in silent dread. Did Thatch know? Was his brother referring to that when he said he hated it when food was wasted? The faint disgust in him grew stronger. Perhaps that was why the fourth commander was acting so much friendlier than usual. He didn't want Ace to feel guilty.

"Ace?"

Ace's thoughts broke apart as he scrambled to pay attention to Marco, who was looking at him with that usual bored, half-lidded gaze.

"Eat," the first commander ordered, glancing at his brother's untouched plate.

Ace tried to hide the flinch at the commanding tone.

Marco's gaze softened. "We don't want you to get sick again," he added gently.

The freckled teen only nodded, looking up to flash the elder pirate a strained smile, before systematically eating his food. He held back a wince at the taste. It was horrible and truly unappetising. Ace wanted to drop his fork and retch everything back out, but the thought of Thatch hating him for wasting such good – if he could call it that – nearly sent him into a nervous wreck. The pirate couldn't hate him. He _couldn't_. If he did, Marco would too, and everyone else would follow because, next to Pops, Marco's words were law and other than Luffy Ace didn't have anyone else. But Luffy was a gazillion seas away and Ace didn't think he'd survive that journey back alone with nothing but-

A hand connected with his face.

Ace looked up in shock, the right side of his cheek smarting from the blow, only to meet Izo's steely glare. The glower softened to a look of disapproval once the kimono-clad pirate was sure he had the fire-user's attention.

"Glad to have you back," he said sternly as he folded his arms, careful not to leave crinkles in his kimono.

Ace realised the hall had gone silent, with many at his table staring at him openly. The realisation did not, however, dampen the shock he felt. "You slapped me," he said incredulously.

Izo narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I did. Do you have a problem with that?" His tone was challenging.

Ace hesitated. He had done something wrong. What did Izo mean by 'glad to have you back'? But he had been here the entire time! He stared wildly at his brother, confused and…a little hurt.

Izo's somewhat expectant look morphed into utter disappointment when it became clear he would receive no response, his lips curling downwards as he stared the fire-user down.

"Izo," Marco warned, his eyes darkening as he tore his gaze away long enough from Ace to flick his other brother a fleeting look.

The pirate in question huffed, shooting Ace one last look. "I don't know what's up with you, Ace. But you better snap out of it _before_ I make you." He stalked off.

The silence that fell over them then was suffocating. Thatch looked upset as he poked at the remains of his food, occasionally shooting Ace worried glances. Marco went back to his meal as if nothing had happened, signalling the crew to get back to business. The chatter that had been eerily missing increased in volume again.

Meanwhile, Ace heaved in a deep breath before finishing the rest of his meal in one swallow. He pushed away his plate. "I'm done for today," he announced softly. He got up from the table, averting his eyes. Also in part to quell the ugly feeling of remorse rearing its head in his chest, he added almost reluctantly, "I'll be in my room…if you need me."

Without looking back, he made his way out of the hall, trying to convince himself that he had not just made a fool of himself without understanding why.

* * *

Marco watched his youngest brother flee - and that was exactly how he would describe it – the hall, a mixture of irritation and concern warring for dominance in him. There was something going on, something wrong, but what?

"I really don't feel hungry anymore."

Marco turned to see Thatch pushing his own half-full plate away. The normally cheery persona was dim, as if a darkened cloud was hovering over the commander's head, threatening to wipe out what joy dared to escape the pirate.

The phoenix paused, understanding the significance behind the statement. He couldn't really stomach any more food either. Taking his own plate into his hands to clear it, he stood up. "Let's go to the deck. Fresh air would be good."

Thatch nodded glumly. Both of them left the hall, each lost in thought. Marco had no doubt Ace was in the centre of his companion's thoughts. He had been for the past few days already, though the person in question seemed oblivious to it all.

Marco had known something was up since the day he had forced Ace to the infirmary. From the state of his room (Ace was by no means a neat freak, but he wasn't that messy either; and what was with the broken mirror?) to the apparent lack of fight when he had suggested Ace go to the doctor. The teenager he knew would never have given in that easily, no matter how tired or worn out he was.

Granted, Ace had been trying to be himself, but all his smiles were strained, his laughter forced. Even though Marco had seen Ace out more than he had been that week he 'disappeared', he looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there, talking with his brothers. As if someone, most likely himself, had threatened his very life (and perhaps theirs as well) to be there. Or else.

And that incident just now…Marco had no words for it.

The beginnings of moonlight bathed the two commanders in full as they walked out on deck, both silent as they made they were to the crow's nest upon unspoken agreement. The two had shared too many problems together not to know where to share their burdens.

Leaning against the wooden railing, Thatch sighed beside him, a shadowed look covering his eyes. "If I find out someone did this to Ace, I will personally slice them to pieces and roast them to hell," he said darkly.

Marco blinked at the threat. He felt the same, but something told him no one was the cause of this. At least, no one on the ship.

"I mean," Thatch continued, turning on his heels as he paced the small space available to him. "What the hell could have happened? It's like something's draining him and squeezing him dry." He nearly tugged harshly at his hair. "I hate knowing something's wrong with him, and not being able to do anything," he muttered.

"I know." Marco sighed. "I feel the same."

A thought seemed to occur to Thatch. He whipped his head to look at Marco in wide-eyed horror. "You don't think he regrets joining us, do you?"

Marco's forehead creased. "He joined us more than a few months ago, Thatch."

"I know! Maybe he regrets it now, but he feels too obligated to say he wants to leave." Thatch groaned. "That would totally explain the guilty stares the kid's been shooting at us."

Ah. So his friend had noticed the looks.

"I don't think that's the case. But it isn't something we should overlook either." Marco pressed a finger to his temple. He may be the first division commander and had solved too many cases of brothers-in-need-of-help, but this may be the most difficult yet. Ace was an enigma, a complex figure of recklessness and feelings and beliefs and outright stubbornness. And much more thrown in the mix.

Like, how in Pop's name did Ace not understand the point of Izo's frustration?

The kid had looked so lost Marco couldn't bear the thought of Izo raining more blows on the teen.

"He's not even eating well," Thatch said sadly, cutting into Marco's thoughts.

Marco expelled another sigh. "We should see how it goes." He decided. "If Ace doesn't get better soon" – for lack of a better words – "we'll go to Pops."

Thatch looked at him gratefully. He beamed, though his smile was still dim in contrast with his natural cheeriness. The sight brought a slight ache to his chest. Above all, Marco hated seeing his family upset.

He wished Ace would just open up and tell them what was wrong already. It was tiring, trying to figure out something they had completely no bearings on.

* * *

_Ace was running away from the house he lived in, ignoring Dadan's call for him to come back._

"_Come back, Ace!" she shouted after him._

_Ace couldn't have been more than six years old, but he visibly shuddered at the thought. His features immediately twisted into horror at the thought of staying any longer and so he forced his little legs to run faster. "No!" He yelled childishly. "I can't go back!"_

_Dadan only continued to plead with him to return. "What about your brother?" she asked. "What about Luffy?"_

_Ace froze, but went on running when his guardian began to chase him through the forest. "Luffy will understand! We promised Sabo we'd leave at 17!"_

"_You're only six, Ace!" That couldn't be right. Ace hadn't even _met_ Luffy and Sabo when he was six._

_He remained adamant. "No, I'm not!"_

_The house disappeared and suddenly the D. carrier was 17 years old, still running, panting and out of breath as he raced to get to his boat and get out of Dawn Island. Something inside him was pulling him away, urging him to go faster, faster, faster…_

"_ACE!"_

_Ace started at the voice, unable to turn away from his little brother. He spun around, mentally forcing the instinct to run down. "Luffy?" His eyes went wide at the sight of a seven-year-old Monkey D. Luffy, who was staring at him with tear-stained eyes._

_Luffy's lips trembled. "You're leaving me?" he asked._

_Ace felt something inside him crumble into despair. He hurried to placate the child- no, his brother. "No, of course not! But we promised Sabo, remember? We promised we'd have our freedom."_

_The tears brimmed over and splashed onto Luffy's cheeks. The sorrow in the younger's eyes changed then into unadulterated anger. "You're leaving me? You said you'd never leave me behind!" he cried._

_Ace stepped back in shock. "L-Luffy, I-"_

_Luffy closed his eyes and screamed, "I HATE YOU!"_

"_No, you don't!" Ace argued. "You're just mad at me but it'll be okay, Luffy!"_

"_Stay away from me! I don't want a brother like you!"_

_Just as Ace was about to chase after his little brother, the scene changed and he was standing in the middle of the Moby Dick. _

"_Ace?" Marco asked from behind him. "What are you doing here?"_

_Ace turned again, relief plain on his features. "Marco! Thank goo-"_

"_You don't belong here."_

_Shock filled the fire-user, stilling his words, his dark grey eyes wide. "Marco?"_

_His ship-brothers appeared, surrounding him, glaring into his back, his front – glaring at _him_. What was going on? Why did they act like they hated him?_

_Pops appeared in front of him then. "Ace," he rumbled. "You don't belong here."_

_Cold dread dropped into the teen's stomach. Pops…didn't want him anymore?_

_Izo pointed a perfectly manicured finger to the sea. "Get out, you useless scum."_

_The fourth commander joined in. "Get out."_

_Thatch too?_

"_You don't belong here."_

"_Hey Pops! Throw him out already!" someone called out._

_Pops acquiesced. "Whatever you want, my sons." He raised a hand._

"_Pops!" Ace pleaded. "What did I do? Please, tell me what I did wrong. I won't do it again!"_

_Whitebeard glared at him, freezing him to the spot. "Don't you call me that now. You're no son of mine." He brought his fist down, throwing Ace off the ship into the dark, dark sea._

Ace woke up with a start, fingers grasping frantically around him for something solid to hold on to, to latch onto reality. His heart pounded in his chest, beating in time to the gasps that escaped his mouth. Cold sweat fell into his eyes.

_Just a dream_, he told himself. _Just a nightmare. It wasn't real.  
_

His hair sticking to his forehead in clumps, Ace felt tears build up on his lower eyelashes. The feeling of abandonment was still fresh in his mind. His throat constricted. As his body heaved, trembling under the weight of the dream, Ace curled up in himself on his bed, burying his head into his pillow which he clutched tightly to his chest. He rocked himself silently in the dark bedroom, too afraid to fall back asleep, tired and weary though he was.

_There's nothing wrong me. I'm alright._

A tear fell onto his cheek.

_I'm alright._

But then, why did he feel like crying?

* * *

**I feel like crying too...**

**Do leave a review, if you will! I'd love some feedback.**


	3. Messed-Up Feelings

**Hello, my lovely readers!**

**Firstly, thank you so much for your LOVELY reviews, your story alerts, favourites..It made me so happy. I can't even express my happiness right now.**

**I can't believe I managed to write this out today. A fine warning, however, is that I really think this chapter is boring. It's a filler, of sorts, and I really need it for the story. It's a little different from the previous chapters, where Ace was just sunk in his general despair at the world and at himself.**

**And, do you think I focus on dialogue too much? I looked over the chapter and BAM! 2.5k words of nearly all dialogue. What the hell? But then I looked back and realised most of my writing is the same. Oops. In any case, yes, this chapter is really quite dull but what makes a good chapter? I have gone through fic after fic, and asked myself: Why did this story interest you? What was it about this chapter? And, well. I still don't know.**

**ANOTHER WARNING:  
Please read this before you go on to the story. I have to confess that I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. I know the topic of depression can be a sensitive one, and if I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.**

**To all my reviewers****, let me hand you my heart instead, okay? You nearly brought tears to my eyes instead. Thank you so much for your kind words. Trust me, I doubt this chapter would have gone out as quickly if it weren't for all of you. I was so happy I just sat myself down and wrote it instead of doing the school project I'm supposed to be working on (uh oh).****  
**

**P.S. Next chapter for** "**_Stuck_****" should be out by tomorrow or Saturday night. Sorry, guys. But my writing hours only happen at night.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

"_I'm fine. Well, I'm not fine – I'm here."  
"Is there something wrong with that?"  
"Absolutely." – Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story_

Ace walked down the hallway to get to Oyaji's meeting room, almost lost in his thoughts. Other times he wouldn't be worried that he would walk right into a door or some unsuspecting ship-brother/sister since he was already well-acquainted with each turn of the Moby Dick's interior. He struggled now to keep himself focused. Recently, it happened too often where he'd find himself in a part of the ship he didn't mean to be in.

He wondered absently what the meeting was about. Thatch had come knocking on his door, solemnly informing him that Oyaji had called for one, citing the importance that the fire-user attended the session. The teen's forehead creased slightly. He wasn't a division commander. Why would they request for his attendance?

A little coat of anxiety locked around his heart as remnants of the dream (nightmare) he had a few nights back came to the forefront of his mind.

_You don't belong here._

Ace frowned. He mentally, forcefully, shoved the memory down.

_I HATE Y-_

-and chained it agitatedly in as deep as he could within the recesses of his mind. He breathed heavily, closing his eyes. That feeling of abandonment still felt fresh in his head. _But it wasn't real, right?_ He told himself sternly. _Going crazy over a stupid dream.. What's wrong with you?_

Still…the meeting with Oyaji and a select few of his brothers incited shivers of dread down his back. It wasn't that he didn't trust his newfound family. He couldn't trust himself not to make a fool of himself yet again. He remembered the incident during that dinner dejectedly. Izo still wasn't on speaking terms with him. The best part was that Ace still had no inkling as to what had caused the friction in the first place. He hated knowing that he upset someone - his brother, no less. It made him feel...unworthy.

He turned a corner, too distracted to notice the person in front of him in time and colliding hard-**UFF!**

Two hands shot out to grab the teen's shoulders as Ace stumbled backwards, arms flailing by his side.

He swore as he was righted by his brother. He looked up, glaring. "What the hell...Izo?" he trailed off, recognising the pirate.

Izo, his face peppered with that ridiculous amount of make-up, only raised an eyebrow delicately. He seemed almost amused. "Are you blaming me for your own inability to watch where you're going, Ace?" he said dryly.

Ace turned red. "O-of course not!" He cursed himself for the falter in words, noting the small frown that touched Izo's features at the stammer. For some reason, Ace felt a tinge of anger at the expression. Was he now not allowed to make a tiny slip-up? If Izo, or any other pirate, was going to jump on him for some stupid error like a fucking stutter, he wasn't going to have any of it. So what if they were commanders? Big deal. He had never been one to give a fuck about authority anyway.

He glared at the offending pirate. "Move out of my way," he snapped. "I actually have things to do."

The elder pirate's eyebrows raised a fraction at the remark.

Not bothering to wait for a response, Ace stalked off, his shoulders stiff. It wasn't even nine in the morning and already he could feel the beginnings of fatigue tug at the edges of his mind.

Behind him, Izo let out a soft smile.

* * *

"Oyaji," Ace greeted quietly. He slipped into the room. He scanned the room out of habit.

For a Yonkou, his adoptive father was surprisingly humble in his choice of furnishings. Many would have pointed out that the sheer size of the Moby Dick contrasted greatly with that point, but Whitebeard was a father to many, many children. Even Ace had little idea how many siblings he had acquired when he took up Whitebeard's flag. The ship was cramped as it was with the number of people it was home to.

The meeting room itself was no larger than Dadan's living room. It was sparse and housed just one large table that could seat about ten people, fifteen at most, at any one time. There weren't any windows, and a single potted flower graced the table. A lone painting of the ship hung on the wall facing the door. To be blunt, it was lacking, but Ace decided he liked it. He was never one for extravagance, after all.

Apart from the Yonkou, Marco, Thatch, Vista, Namur and Kingdew were seated, each sporting a hot mug of hot chocolate in their hands.

From his seat, Whitebeard seemed to watch him carefully, his eyes narrowed a little. Before the familiar tingles of worry could touch him though, a warm smile curved his father's lips. "Ace, have a seat. We have been waiting for you."

Ace reddened a little. "Sorry," he muttered.

He hurried to the seat Marco pulled out for him between the phoenix and Thatch. "You're late," Marco said, eyebrows raised. Beside him, Thatch leaned closer as he pushed Ace's own mug to him.

Ace shot him a quick smile, quelling the urge to decline. With the meeting about to start, the fire-user didn't think he could stomach anything. What if Oyaji decided to- Ace bit his tongue painfully. _Shut up. You're being silly._ Turning to Marco, Ace forced a sheepish smile. "I got lost."

Marco looked amused. "You got lost," he repeated.

Ace stilled, suddenly feeling the many pairs of eyes on him. He looked down at his lap, fingers clutched tightly around the curve of his mug. "Um, yeah."

Vista snorted. "Come up with a better lie, kid. You've been on the ship for too long for us to believe that."

His cheeks flushed again, but this time in anger, this time louder and sharper than what he felt earlier with Izo. Ace's lips thinned, his dark grey eyes narrowing into a smouldering glare as he mentally burned a hole in the swordsman's direction. He forced his fingers to uncurl from his drink, still mindful that no ceramic could stand his grip.

"Don't believe it then, Vista. I don't have to persuade you," he hissed through gritted teeth. The rage that rippled through him pounded in his ears, reaping no satisfaction from Vista's surprised features. The intensity he felt stunned even him, but did nothing to smother the flames that licked at his heart.

"That's enough," Marco said. He seemed to hold back a sigh, before turning to Whitebeard. "Our apologies, Oyaji. We should proceed."

Ace moved his glower to the table. The ire continued to stir inside him as it coiled through his veins, as if waiting for the opportune moment to strike. What the hell _was_ that? Now he was liar? What had he done to deserve being labelled like that? He supposed now getting lost or being late to a fucking meeting was completely unacceptable.

Screw that. He didn't become a pirate for this crap. And that stupid Marco even seemed amused about it…Ace's dark grey orbs widened in dismay, and just like that, the anger dissipated like a storm on a sunny day. What would Marco think of him now? He had acted like a child.

"Ace, you must be wondering why you were called to this meeting."

Ace started. He looked up to see his adoptive father peering at him kindly. His insides twisted. This was wrong. Vista was right. Which idiot in his right mind would get lost on his own ship? Now he couldn't even pay enough attention when his adoptive _father_ was speaking to _him_. Whitebeard looked so warm and open and so…Ace couldn't explain it, but he craved it. _Needed_ it. Without thinking about it, he answered, "I came as you asked."

A light frown hinted at the Yonkou's countenance but he continued, still smiling warmly. "We will be approaching an island tomorrow two mornings from now. Kodoku Island. There have been strange happenings on the island which I need you and the selected commanders to check out." He leaned forward. "You've been with us for a few months now, Ace. It's about time we sent you out on a mission for you to try your skills at." He nodded at Marco.

The first commander stood up. His chair screeched slightly behind him as it was pushed back. "For now, Ace, you'll be a casual observer. Watch carefully how we handle our missions. We'll guide you along the way so don't worry about the details."

Taking over from there, Marco launched into the details of the mission. As the first commander discussed the finer aspects of the assignment (though Ace suspected it was more for his benefit than anything else), the youngest pirate felt his eyelids grow heavy. He could feel the slight horror at the thought falling asleep in the middle of the meeting but the unexpected heavy feeling in his head only tugged relentlessly at his consciousness. Exhaustion leapt at his mind and the fire-user suddenly saw no issue with resting his head on his folded arms.

Marco droned on in the background, his calm inflections a soothing melody in the background.

Within seconds, the young pirate was fast asleep.

* * *

Marco noted in mild amusement when it became clear their youngest brother was asleep. A small smile tugged at his lips and he could see Thatch clasping his hands over his mouth to cover his snickers. His other brothers merely raised an eyebrow at the scene. His father, on the other hand, only chuckled lightly.

It wasn't the first time they were witness to Ace's narcoleptic attacks, after all.

"Well then," Marco said, leaning against the board he had only just stuck up on the wall, his arms folded. "I guess we can end the meeting now."

Namur seemed offended. "But we only just started!" he protested.

Kingdew scoffed. "Come now, Namur. The meeting is for Ace's benefit. No point continuing it if he's off in wonderland." The pirate stood up. He stretched his arms above his head. "If there's nothing else, Oyaji?"

Whitebeard shook his head. As they shuffled out, with the Yonkou's stern reminder for Marco to "take care of him well", Vista paused at the door.

He hesitated. "Hey, Marco. Tell him" – he glanced at Ace – "I'm sorry okay? Everyone knows something's wrong with him but I just ignored it. I didn't mean to offend him or anything like it."

Marco nodded in acceptance, grateful. "Thank you, Vista. I'll be sure to tell him."

* * *

"Wake up, sleepy-head." Thatch leaned forward and blew into the teen's ear. "Wake upppppp," he breathed, expelling a huff of air through his mouth.

Ace twitched. "Go 'wayyy…Too 'ly," he mumbled.

Thatch snapped his head up to stare at Marco almost happily at the response. Marco held back an eye-roll. Honestly, if his career as a pirate ever ended, he swore he'd have the perfect skills to be a babysitter. Thatch himself was worth four five-year-olds on his own.

Ace stirred again, groaning under his breath. He lifted his head. He blinked blearily as his vision focused on them, then on his surroundings. Marco could tell when realisation hit him. The reaction was immediate. He gasped, a look of pure horror flashing across his features. "I didn't," he uttered in dismay. "I _didn't_."

"You did," Marco said simply.

Thatch grinned beside him, though Marco detected a line of uncertainty in his form. "Don't worry about it, Ace. We still have two days until the mission."

Ace just slumped in his seat. "I'm an idiot," he muttered. He suddenly jerked up. "What about Oyaji?"

Marco shared a look with Thatch at the almost desperate tone. "He left."

Ace grew alarmed. "He left? He didn't- I mean, was it because I fell asleep? I didn't mean to, I swear. I just-"

Marco almost frowned at that. "Hey, calm down, Ace. He left because he didn't want to wake you," he said carefully.

"Yeah," Thatch piped up. "It's not like it's the first time anyway. I bet everyone was waiting for it to even happen."

Thatch began to laugh, but the sudden flash of anger he caught from Ace quietened him. Ace snapped up, almost sending his chair scattering, his palms flat on the table. His grey eyes grew cold. "Is this some kind of _joke_ to you?" He hissed. "Am _I_ a joke to you?"

Having witnessed as much as he had, few things surprised Marco as Ace's words did then. He forehead creased, tensing at the insinuation. What was Ace on about?

Thatch took a step back, a hurt look on his face. "No! Of course not! I didn't-" He looked to the phoenix pleadingly for help.

The first commander decided then that enough was enough. Whatever the hell was going on with Ace didn't mean he had to drag down the people around him. Thatch was one of the brightest (in terms of cheeriness, of course) and generally happy person Marco had ever had the privilege to meet, and for him to look so wounded like that made his insides clench slightly. Still, Ace was their brother too and Marco would be damned before he let them hurt each other- though in this case, Ace was doing the hurting. To Thatch and himself.

Before he could intervene, the intense fury just...fell from Ace's features, immediately replaced with guilt and right-out remorse. The fire-user dropped back into his seat, head in his hands.

"Shit. Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I don't-I didn't mean to say that. Any of it. I don't know what's happening but, shit. I keep feeling all weird and stuff and…" Ace looked up at Thatch, his eyes impossibly wide with regret. "I'm so sorry, Thatch. I really didn't mean it." He dropped his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I'll understand if you're mad," he added softly.

The fourth commander didn't even seem fazed by the abrupt change in behaviour. He hurried to console the increasingly distraught teen. "I know, it's fine, Ace. I'm not mad at you. We're brothers! Something like that is nothing to us."

Ace hesitated, his chin halfway back to hide his face in his hands again. The word 'brothers' seemed to have caught him. "Really?"

Thatch nodded enthusiastically. Marco watched as the fourth commander went took the opportunity to engage Ace in a conversation, something they hadn't had had in over a week. Even though the freckled teen looked a little overwhelmed, Marco could tell he was trying hard to keep up with the overenthusiastic pirate, perhaps in a bid to make up for his earlier harshness. It was strange, seeing Ace in that light, hunched over the table. The first commander wondered if Ace realised it, but their young little brother seemed almost defensive, a little tense, a little hesitant, a little wary.

When Thatch spoke of their upcoming mission on the island, Marco couldn't help but feel relieved – and freaking grateful – when Ace practically lit up at the news. The fourth commander, recognising the familiar look, immediately latched on to that brightness as he spoke of wild adventures (that probably wouldn't happen) that they'd have on the island.

It were times like this that Marco felt exceptionally grateful to Thatch, who was practically his best friend, with Ace slowly rising up the ranks to come right after (the kid was a thorn in the side but, before this whole stupid fiasco, he had already wormed his way into the phoenix's heart and happily made himself comfortable there). He was by no means a people-person, and sometimes standing by someone's side just wasn't enough.

As Ace's facial features continued to brighten with every word from the elder pirate, Marco became sure of one thing, judging from his words and his constant confusion at himself.

Ace had no idea what the hell was going on either with himself.

* * *

**Okay guys. There it is. Boring chapter but it had to go out.**

**To be honest, this chapter was so hard to write. I didn't really know how to depict Ace with abruptly changing emotions and to show it from his perspective. Mood swings can't always be rationalised by others, after all.**

**A side-note, anger or irritability is a side-effect of depression. Your temper basically is fucked up and you can get mad at everyone and everything for the slightest things. Couple this with sudden bouts of calmness or happiness, or back to silence or anger.**

**And because I love you guys so much, here's a short synopsis of what happens next.**

**Synopsis of next chapter:**

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. He screwed up.

Grey eyes looked wildly around him, searching desperately for an exit, an escape route. There had to be one somewhere, right? There was no way it'd end like this. It couldn't. Something inside him seemed to break.

He hadn't repaid them enough yet.

**Do leave a review if you're excited! :D**


	4. Watching Over You

**Hey guys!**

**Okay, again (and I'm sorry if I totally bored you with this every time), but thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for your reviews, favourites and story alerts. Honestly, they really helped me with this chapter. It was just so hard to write.**

**Secondly, remember, at the end of the previous chapter, I had written a synopsis of this chapter? I am so sorry! But I really couldn't bring myself to write a chapter longer than this. When I was writing, I realised the chapter was going to be longer than I had intended and I'd have to add about another half-of-this-chapter long part to get that in. I didn't want to compromise on the length of my fics so, yeah...Forgive me? Pretty please? It'll come out next chapter, I promise!**

**Thirdly (damn, this is one long author's note), I have to apologise again. I know I've been posting chapters up quickly (for my standards, anyway). Between my other fic "Stuck" and this one, I think I've been rather dedicated. But, as a writer, there comes a time when we enter the abyss a.k.a the writer's block. I've been trying my utmost to push it away, stab it, and toss it over the side of the ship but I just can't. It's almost midnight now and I've been here, seated at my desk, since two in the afternoon, writing this fic. Re-writing it, re-arranging paragraphs, words and so on and so forth because I want to write to the best of my ability for my readers: You. I can sincerely say this chapter is the product of my hard-won battle against writer's block and I hope that you will like it.**_  
_

**To the point of this...I will probably not be updating for some time, including any updates for "Stuck". I really need a break, get myself in the mood for writing and focus on other aspects of my life which I have been neglecting for a while now. I love writing, but I'm starting to lose that...desire to do so. It always comes back, but for now, it's fading. Give me a few weeks, give or take and I'll be back so soon you can't even tell I was gone (ahahaha if you're waiting, anyway). Who knows? Maybe I'll even update by the end of this week.**

**I really hope this chapter makes up for that! And feel free to throw me suggestions in the meantime. Might just inspire me to write a one-shot or new plot to this story if I could fit it in somewhere. :D**

**Again, same warning:**  
Please read this before you go on to the story. I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. If I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.****

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

"_Maybe…some people are meant to go their whole lives wandering and alone, you know? Maybe some people aren't meant to be saved." - Anonymous_

Ace would never have described himself to be the emotional type. He rarely, if ever, cried. He was dependable, brave and headstrong. He was also strong and tough, and he remembered his Grandpa had once called him…cold.

"_Ace…I sometimes wonder if, I had done right by you."_

_Grey eyes widened fractionally as a freckled face turned to face the older D. "Old man?"_

_A similar, but darker pair of grey eyes, met his. Garp laughed. "It's nothing, brat."_

_Ace glared at him. "Tell me!" he insisted. "You can't say something like that and then pretend you didn't."_

_A huge hand landed on his head and the young boy flinched, expecting a blow, but was surprised when his hair was ruffled roughly by the much older man. He flushed a deep scarlet. "Grandpa!" _

_Garp only laughed louder. "Allow me to, Ace."_

"_Huh?"_

_A fond look entered the older's eyes. "You're growing, Ace. You're only six, and already you protest when I ruffle your hair or pat your back."_

_"I'm six! I'm grown-up now!"_

_Garp smiled sadly. "Of course you are."_

_Ace looked confused. "…grandpa?"_

_Garp leaned closer. One of his hands rested above Ace's heart. He turned serious. "Remember, Ace. If it is a choice between warmth and coldness, never choose the cold. It freezes you, and it never lets you go."_

Ace had never truly understood what his grandpa had meant. While he had his suspicions, he never asked but a part of him kept the words close to his heart. For a child of six, words like that seemed almost like a prophecy. Of things he was too small to yet understand. A hand lifted to touch the place where the old man had touched. The fire-user could feel the strong pounding of his heart, each beat carrying the blood that kept him alive. The teen briefly wondered if he should hate it for doing so.

"What are you doing?"

Ace turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of blonde to his left. A light frown touched his forehead but he only paused to lean his arms against the railings, gaze trained on the night sky. Light footsteps stopped beside him, almost encroaching into his personal space. The younger pirate, though, refrained from commenting. It didn't seem to matter anyway.

The sky was beautifully dotted by twinkling little lights. Ace had always found the stars to be so…captivating. How did it feel to be up so high? Watching over the world as time passed, unchanging and untouched by the ravages of time? He wondered what the stars had seen. They probably had witnessed his father's (only through his cursed blood) execution, had seen his mother's untimely death and heard the cries of a small blonde boy who fell to the fire, and then to the raging sea. A light ache touched the pirate's heart. They must know of the evil that flowed through him.

The evil that kept him alive.

Tresses of his midnight black hair fell in his eyes and the teen shook his head, waving the locks away in slight annoyance, invoking a startling anger that brushed at his blood. Confusion welled up inside the fire-user at that. He sighed. He didn't understand what was wrong with him, but it was getting really tiring.

"It's going to get colder tonight," Marco suddenly said next to him.

Ace glanced at the phoenix, a tad surprised at the statement. Still, the younger felt somewhat grateful for the interruption. "It doesn't matter."

Guarded blue eyes slid to watch him. "Doesn't it?"

Ace took a moment to answer. "No," he said carefully, suddenly unsure of Marco's real intent behind his question. "I'm fire. _You're_ fire. The cold doesn't affect us."

The reply was flat. "Is that why you're wearing a shirt tonight?"

The freckled teen froze, a blood-curdling coldness sweeping through his veins at the softly spoken words. The world seemed to black out then, only to leave the two pirates in existence as one struggled for an explanation and the other waiting in stony silence.

"I-" Ace's breath caught. "It's only a shirt, Marco," he finally answered.

Marco said quietly, "Ace, do you know what you're doing?"

Ace flinched, detecting clearly the undercurrent of anger in the other's words. He dropped his gaze to his feet. "It's no big deal, Marco. It's just a shirt," he repeated almost dully. What was with Marco? It was _only_ just a shirt. Almost everyone wore a fucking shirt and he couldn't? Try as he might, he could feel the beginnings of anger stir in him. He tried to clamp it shut. No, not again. Thatch's wounded look would haunt him until the day he died. The fire-user refused- no, couldn't add Marco's to it as well.

"Ace," Marco began, a hint of warning ringing in his voice.

The threads of self-control started to chip away. A light pounding started at the back of the teen's head. _Control. Control. Control._

"_Just_ a shirt?" Marco finally repeated incredulously when no reply was forthcoming. "Please tell me you weren't thinking, and therefore didn't know what you were saying."

The shock morphed into outrage. "What the hell, Marco? I'm wearing a shirt. Big deal."

A fierce light gleamed in Marco's blue eyes. "I think the question is what's wrong with _you_. Now answer me."

Feeling the last wisps of his control over his anger slip away, Ace did the only thing he could. He glared back. "I don't have to answer to you," he responded stiffly. "Good night, Marco. I'm turning in."

Before he could turn away, the phoenix slammed a fist onto the railing, startling Ace into staring at him with wide eyes. Marco grabbed his shirt and Ace was dragged closer until he was inches from the commander's face, a furious commander glaring down at him. The irrational ire receded into shock, and the younger almost wondered when he forgot that Marco could be so intimidating.

"You are covering your _mark_, you imbecile."

Ace's breath caught. A sudden numbness slid into him. _Oh._ He was covering Oyaji's mark. He was…_oh_.

An unreadable look crossed Marco's blue eyes. Fingers unclenched from the teen's shirt and the latter fell to the floor. Silence reigned, until, with his voice barely above a whisper that Ace wondered if it was even meant to be heard, Marco dropped the question.

Ace somehow registered in his shocked-still form that he should do something to stop his friend who had started to walk away- should have felt something, when the phoenix's words sank in.

"_You…Do you regret joining us?"_

Ace stood by the railing the rest of the night.

* * *

Thatch sometimes wondered if his family really believed him to be oblivious or if he was indeed unaware of the people around him. This probably stemmed from his tendency to…overlook tense or awkward situations and instead inject it with a much lighter atmosphere. Somehow, the commander didn't think this was the right moment to do so.

Ace and himself (Kingdew had opted to stay on the ship as a key contact person in case they should need it, however unlikely) were waiting by east wing of the Moby Dick. Namur and Vista were preparing the boat for their mission. As for Marco…he was somewhere in the sky, probably watching over all of them.

Not one moment ago, Marco was standing by him, a grim expression set on his features. He wasn't glaring, but the phoenix had been sporting a sort of intense look about him that Thatch once sworn would give his pineapple head grey hair. It was the look he had when he worried about a family member, and especially the look when it was another part of his family which caused said issue. Thatch didn't have to be a genius to conclude that it was their beloved younger fire-user who had caused that crease in the first commander's forehead.

This was further re-inforced when, with one look at the approaching Ace, Marco had taken off in his phoenix form without a word.

Ace himself was quiet as they waited. He had looked downcast to start with. When the stupid chicken had flown off, Ace's gaze had trailed after him, lingering on the spot where the blue flames had last disappeared. Something flickered and lurched in the fire-user's gaze then. Something desperate. Something _pained_. Thatch's mentally swore. He was going to throw that idiot Marco into the sea when he had the chance.

Unable to stand the sight of the despondent teen anymore, Thatch asked softly, "You alright, Ace?"

"Huh?" Ace glanced at him, not even meeting his eyes. The strained smile that stretched his lips only made the fourth commander's heart clench. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really excited for the mission. My first and all, you know."

Yeap. The kid sounded really excited, Thatch thought dryly. He tried again. "You look tired."

Ace's gaze became fixated on the waves crashing on the base of the ship. "Had a late night," he mumbled.

Thatch played along. "Ah. I couldn't sleep either the night before my first mission. I swear I drove our brothers and sisters mad bouncing across one end of the ship to the other. Oyaji even threatened to pull me out unless I put my butt in bed and went to sleep like I was supposed to." Just like he had hoped, the freckled teen brightened a little when he mentioned Oyaji.

The younger hesitated, but the elder's smile seemed to be encouragement enough for him to continue. His voice was soft. "Oyaji did?"

The commander nodded, beaming. "Yeah! Apparently painting the whole deck yellow wasn't my brightest moment."

Ace snorted (and Thatch gave himself an internal pat on the back). "How in the world did you do that?"

"I was kind of assigned to clean out the deck, and since I was, and let me quote, a 'ball of uncontrollable energy' I had to clean it out myself." Thatch conveniently left out the part where Marco had said it was his punishment for disturbing his siblings and father from their sleep. "I was so excited I didn't know what to do with myself and kind of mistook the paint we had lying around for detergent."

Ace stared at him in mild disbelief. "And there was paint lying conveniently around?"

"We were going to re-paint the ship. Though yellow does seem a good colour for the deck." Thatch went on to regale Ace with his tale, spinning it and visualising it in a way he knew his brother loved. One thing they had found out about their newest brother was his love for adventures and, second to that, stories. He always seemed to drink up any tale his newfound brothers (most Thatch with Marco as an audience; Marco had said it was 'insurance' to ensure Thatch didn't chase their youngest sibling away; the fourth commander had thrown a shoe at him for the comment) saw fit to tell him. All of them were content to entertain him. Yet, what Ace loved most, Thatch knew, were the stories told by their father. It didn't happen often, but he knew Oyaji wouldn't hesitate to ply his sons with stories if only they asked.

Besides (and he would never tell Ace this), Oyaji only ever entertained his youngest son with accounts of his past or those which he had heard.

The fourth commander never paused once as he talked on and on, even when Ace was silent throughout, staring at his hands. He took care to phrase his words carefully lest Ace take it the wrong way again, as he clamped on to that tiny gleam of interest in his brother's eyes. He refused to remember how that light used to shine like the sun not a few weeks ago.

The present was most important after all.

He only stopped when he felt a pair of eyes lock on him from the back. Thatch leaned in to whisper in Ace's ears, even when the latter seemed to withdraw from the approaching phoenix.

"If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, come find me. I promise I'll tell you a better one."

The surprise he caught was the best gift he could have asked for that day.

* * *

[2 hours later]

Marco walked through the forest, dead leaves crunching under his feet as he single-mindedly made his way through the dense forestation. His companion was silent beside him. The phoenix could feel the pair of eyes latch on to him now and again. He ignored it. If the brat was waiting for him to say something, he could wait a thousand years.

At the moment, he was going to focus on the mission. Ace and himself (by Oyaji's orders since he was the first commander) were to infiltrate an enemy pirate base and steal some information. He vaguely wondered which pirate was stupid enough to build his base on land. He hadn't even met the crew but already he felt little respect for these self-proclaimed pirates. From their intelligence, the pirates who were known as the RedRum crew, had some information on weaponry that his father wanted. They didn't really need it but it was an easy mission and an opportunity for Ace to learn the ropes.

Get in. Get out. Go back. Report. The end. Marco mentally nodded to himself. That was the goal for the day. He really didn't feel up for anything else.

"I didn't mean it."

Marco almost started at the whisper. He pretended not to understand. "What are you talking about?" He went on walking.

There was a pause. "The shirt. I didn't mean it," Ace repeated quietly.

Marco exhaled noisily. He would have gone on, but the plea he heard in his brother's voice wasn't something he could ignore. He turned to face Ace, careful to keep his wrath from showing. "Explain yourself."

The commander remembered the complete outrage he felt when he caught Ace with his back covered. No Whitebeard member _ever_ covered their marks. It was the reason they chose where to tattoo the mark carefully. It was the same reason his jacket was never zipped up. It was theirsymbol, their proof that they belonged with each other, that they were a _son_. It was their _fucking pride_. Didn't Ace understand that? To cover their mark was to renounce their faith to Oyaji, to their _brotherhood_. Had it been anyone else, or if Ace hadn't been acting so fucking strangely, Marco would have seen it as a form of...betrayal.

He would have died if it meant protecting that mark on his chest. When he saw the familiar anger brewing within the grey irises flash into guilt, Thatch's words had played through his mind. The commander had let Ace go then, his veins suddenly coated in dread.

_You don't think he regrets joining us, do you?_

As pissed as he was with the kid, the thought of the kid leaving was enough to drive him into a frantic state of worry.

"I wasn't thinking," Ace was saying, eyes downcast. And damn it if Marco didn't hate that quiver in his brother's voice. "I felt-I just felt like wearing it. I don't understand why I did."

Marco waited for a little bit, hoping the teen would elaborate. He held back another sigh when it became clear Ace wouldn't. Moving away, he dropped himself a few yards from the other fire-user onto the dirt-caked ground. He patted the spot beside him. After a muted pause, Ace shuffled forward and sat lightly on his feet.

"Ace, I don't know if I should ask this, but this has gone on long enough." The commander turned his body such that he was facing the younger directly. Blue eyes met grey. Marco saw the flickering…fear? Ace was afraid of him? The sight only hardened his resolve. "Ace," Marco said soothingly, reaching up to cup the teen's face with his hands. "Is there something bothering you? You can tell me anything. I promise."

The grey eyes turned wide. The skin under his hands tensed and Marco could feel the light shudders that shook the teen's frame. Concern quickly fell away to panicked anxiety. "Ace?" he prodded when the subject of his worries closed his eyes.

"I-Marco, I…" There was a sharp inhalation. Ace sounded weak. "I can't tell you."

Marco rubbed Ace's skin gently. "Just tell me. Whatever it is, I'll fix it."

"No, Marco. Shit, don't do this to me."

"Ace…won't you tell your big brother what's wrong?" The commander knew it was a low blow but if it stopped whatever was plaguing Ace, he'd do it anything. Like magic, Ace's young eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place. Ace opened his mouth, closed it then parted his lips again.

The freckled teen took in a sharp breath, and another and another, until his breaths came in in loud chokes…and he broke. "Marco, Marco. Please. Oh god." His fingers clenched in his pants. "I don't know, I don't know what's wrong with me. I- please." Tears filmed his lower lashes. "I can't stop. I can't make it stop," he said desperately. One of the tears fell, dropping on Marco's finger.

The phoenix stilled, completely not expecting the outburst. Panic slipped into his voice. "Ace? What can't you stop?" he asked urgently.

"That's the thing, Marco!" he cried. "I don't know! I don't-"

At the sight of more tears, Marco immediately pushed himself off his knees and brought the teen closer to him. His arms went round his back. "It's okay, it's okay," he soothed. "Shhh. It'll be alright."

They stayed like that for a while, until the phoenix finally pulled back reluctantly. The fingers which had curled into his purple jacket as if his life had depended on it unclenched slowly. "Do you feel better now?"

Disappointment flitted through him when Ace averted his gaze, a light flush colouring his cheeks. "Yeah. Thanks, Marco," the fire-user mumbled. His lowered his head, the brim of his hat successfully shadowing his eyes.

_Ace…what the hell is going on with you?_ Worry gnawed at his insides. He glanced at the position of the sun, much lower than he had expected. The phoenix finally decided. "Okay, Ace. This is what we're going to do."

A pair of eyes met his hesitantly.

"We're going to go complete this darn mission, head back to the ship, where we'll have a nice cup of coffee together, okay?" He still used the same comforting tone, almost afraid that he'd scare his brother off. Ace seemed to recognise this too but Marco didn't face any of the anger he would have had to face a few weeks back. The Ace he had come to know hated being treated like a child.

"Okay," Ace finally answered, uncertain.

Marco allowed himself to smile. "Great. Let's get going then."

He held out his hand. The grip he received was tight and his smile only widened further.

* * *

**So that's it for now. It's not an utterly long chapter but I really couldn't squeeze out anymore. I really hope the lack of action and all didn't bore you guys. I can never tell if the things I write are interesting or not. At least I didn't leave a cliffhanger! Next chapter is going to see some action, finally.  
**

**Let me know if you're excited for the next chapter? Or if you have any feedback or suggestions? I'd love to hear them. :)**


	5. Burden

**Hey guys!**

**I'm back! (Okay, does that count? Since I did return for the other fic "Stuck". Do look it up on my profile if you haven't!) Again, thank you for all your reviews. I think, if I don't hold back my thanks and my utter gratitude, I'd have found different ways to say "Thank you" by the time I reach the end of this story and my other fic.  
**

**To answer some requests/questions:**

**To** Guest**, I would love to write a scene where both Marco and Ace gets kidnapped but something almost, _almost_ similar occurred in my other fan fic and I didn't want a repeat of scenes. Sorry about that! Maybe I'd write about it as a separate story. :)**

**To **Guest (2)**, (some reviewers signed off as Guest so...) In this story, they would have known about Ace's narcoleptic attacks since Ace have already been with them for quite some time. But...something you might like is coming right up! So stay tuned! :D**

**For all the others, THANK YOU. Just because I don't respond to your reviews individually does NOT mean I don't love them- and you. *dabs at eyes* How can people be so kind?**

**Anyway, here's the fic. Hope it's okay after my self-induced time-out from this fic. Honestly, as the writer, I really can't be sure if I'm getting the characters in character or if I'm using too many adverbs or the not. Another wonderful inspiration, "Lost" by Red. Love the song.**

**Again, same warning:**  
Please read this before you go on to the story. I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. If I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.****

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

_Can I be dreaming once again  
I'm reaching; helpless, I descend  
You lead me deeper through this maze  
I'm not afraid  
\- Lost by _Red

* * *

Marco was careful to keep an eye out for Ace as they trudged through muddy soil, the earth giving beneath their feet, squelching and dirty. While half his mind focused on the mission at hand, another part lingered on the younger fire-user. His lips thinned. He understood keeping one's worries to oneself so others didn't have to. He knew firsthand the burden of responsibilities that sometimes just weighed so heavily on one's shoulders that one needed that respite to relieve themselves. Of the worry, of the speculation of things that could go wrong, of safety, of the future, of things left to do.

He understood these things. As first division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, he didn't have a choice in the matter.

Yet, no matter how much he thought of it, despite the number of times he looked back in the past week or so, nothing had changed. Everything had proceeded as usual. Crazy antics, the occasional (or annoyingly frequent) prank, their father's uproarious laughter and…the storm. Marco's eyebrow twitched as his mind immediately latched tightly onto the thought. Could it be…?

The commander dug through his memories. The storm had hit them earlier than was expected, crashing onto the sides of the Moby Dick with startling vengeance. Everyone had dropped whatever they were doing (their lunch, to be precise) to tend to their home. But Ace, Marco realised, hadn't been there. He hadn't appeared for lunch (while it came as a shock, many attributed it to his strange sleeping habits and had refused to disturb their newest – and youngest – brother) and hadn't been seen until Thatch and himself had gone to get him- a few days later.

Marco gave an inward groan. How the hell had he, first division commander to Whitebeard, an older brother to hundreds of other younger siblings, missed it? Ace hadn't been seen for _days_. _Why_ hadn't he searched out the teenager earlier? The commander closed his eyes in guilt. They would talk about this. After witnessing his little brother's breakdown, there was no way Marco would let this go.

The two pirates rounded a bend and were met with the base of huge boulder. Jagged edges marked the greyish white stone. Upon closer inspection, Marco thought he could see fine handprints painted near the foot of the boulder. _This must be the one Vista told us to look out for. _If he was right, the enemy facility should just be a five-minute walk away.

The phoenix turned to his partner, who was pointedly staring at his feet. "Ace?"

The raven-haired youth looked up, startled. "Huh?" He quickly corrected himself. "I mean, yeah?"

Marco fought the frown that was itching to cross his forehead. Instead, he gestured to their surroundings. Thick, towering trees dotted the land, its canopy casting rippling shadows over the forest floor. The boulder beside them stood at least twice as tall as Ace himself, making him look even smaller than he was. If the pirates concentrated, both could hear the gushing of a waterfall nearby; according to Namur, it led straight to the sea.

He took out a map. A finger was already pointing at a dotted mark on the paper. "We're here. Here's the boulder Vista had marked out for us. For now, let's go over the plan. We-"

Ace cut in. "Wait, hold on." Marco looked at him expectantly. "Aren't we supposed to pass by a cliff and some sort of creek?"

The expectant look fell into confusion and, if the phoenix were to admit it, slight disappointment. The feeling must have somehow showed through his expression as Ace visibly faltered. "Ace," Marco began slowly, carefully. "We passed those landmarks ages ago."

The teen gaped at him. "What? But I didn't-" He cut himself off as realisation seemed to set in. He dropped his gaze to his feet. "Oh," he said quietly.

From his vantage point, Marco could see the downturn lips and creased forehead. "Ace." He touched the fire user's shoulder. When no reply was forthcoming, he held out his hand and tilted his brother's chin upwards as he lowered his own gaze to meet Ace's. Shuttered grey orbs hesitantly met his.

This wasn't good, the phoenix decided. If Ace couldn't even concentrate on the basic details of their assignment, there was no way they'd be able to complete the mission. The task relied greatly on their stealth and attention to detail. The enemy weren't even supposed to know anything was stolen until the Whitebeards were far and away. Yet, this mission was solely for Ace's benefit. Even in his brother's current state, Marco knew there was no way they could forget about the mission without hurting his pride and, right now, he would do anything to ease whatever burden that ailed the younger pirate.

"Ace," he repeated, both hands now on the younger's shoulders. "I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?"

Ace frowned but nodded. He allowed himself to be pulled into a sitting position beside the commander, eyes never leaving the blonde. "Marco," he said softly. His hands touched the wet grass. "I'm sorry. I'll do better. I just…I just need time."

Marco smiled at this. "I'm happy to hear that. But now, there's something else I need you to do." He paused for a moment, trying to prepare himself, knowing either way Ace would get offended. "Ace," he began. "We have to complete this mission, and I'm sorry but we can't complete it if you're too out of it." He snapped his fingers in front of other pirate. "I need you to stay here."

A deep flush coloured Ace's cheeks. Horror (and Marco tried to convince himself he didn't catch a flash of fear) dominated his features as he rocked back on his heels from the commander. "I'm sorry! Marco, please, I can do this! Just give me a chance, I swear I won't screw up."

Marco closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain. He tried to inject a soothing voice. "I'm sorry, Ace. You just need to stay here, okay? I'll get in, get the damn documents and I'll be right back before you know it."

The now familiar anger flashed across Ace's features. "No!" he exclaimed. "This- this is my _first_ mission, Marco! What will Oyaji think when he-"

"He doesn't have to know."

Ace double-backed in shock. "What?"

"He doesn't have to know," Marco repeated. He went on as if he wasn't possibly going against all his ethics as a Whitebeard commander. But this was different, he tried to convince himself. This was all for Ace's sake. Oyaji would understand if he knew, not that Marco would tell him. "The mission _will_ be complete. That's what Oyaji wants. And that's what we'll get done."

Ace glared at him. He snapped, "You mean what _you_ get done. I'll just be here, waiting like the good little boy."

"This is the only option-"

"Don't be ridiculous! I _need_ this to go right, Marco." The fierceness in the teen's words diminished into a soft plea. "I _need_ this." A hand tugged at the phoenix's purple jacket. "Please, give me a chance."

The older pirate felt his insides twist. He pressed a finger to his forehead. It took him all the willpower to say his next words. "I'm sorry but no, I can't let you do this." The light grip on his jacket disappeared and suddenly Marco was met with the younger's turned back. The ridiculous orange hat was lowered over Ace's eyes, hitching the hair on the back of his head upwards.

Refusing to yield, Marco stepped forward, his lips just a breath from his brother's ear. He felt Ace flinch. "Ace, I understand that, whatever you're going through, it's hard. So please let us help you."

The response was barely above a whisper. "How is this helping me? You're essentially telling me I'm useless enough to just stand around on my own mission." His words turned harsh. "Why? Because I lost my focus for a while there? I'm sorry if you can't even trust me enough to watch your back."

Marco couldn't help it. He snapped. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Now stop acting like a child and listen to me!" The crestfallen aura the blonde felt radiating off the teen nearly made him flinch. Trying to inject a soothing tone, he tried again. "You're upset. You're not focused. You're not in the right form now, Ace. Anything can happen in a mission, no matter how simple it is. You know that. Anything that could go wrong might go wrong. I can regenerate, Ace. But if anything happens to you…" he trailed off. "We can't risk you."

Ace visibly stiffened further. He turned to face Marco in surprise. "What?"

Marco searched the grey eyes, now turning a blackish hue under the shadows. "We can't risk you." He shook his head. "Please understand if we won't risk our little brother to a bunch of pirate-wannabes. You're too important for that."

Ace stared at him with wide eyes.

"So listen to me and wait here, okay? For our sake."

* * *

_Lost in you  
Something I can't fight  
I cannot escape_

* * *

He resisted.

He dug his fingers into the dirt-caked ground, staining the underside of his nails, the skin under his arms. He didn't care.

He didn't even know the countless number of times he had dropped on his back to watch the leaves wave at him, almost mocking in its gestures; he would then jump back up and pace, his grey eyes following the trail his combat boots left behind. This was wrong on so many levels.

Marco would go in, get back out and meet him back here. Thatch, Vista and Namur would meet them back at the shore after they were done distracting the RedRum pirates. Everything would go as planned. Except…the teen wasn't involved. Instead, Marco and himself would go to the cliff together to give the signal that the plan had succeeded later on before heading back home.

Ace still didn't know how Marco had talked him into it. Now the older pirate was gone, probably somewhere deep in the enemy base by now; probably finding the stupid documents with ease without him trailing behind him like the burden he was. Ace had watched him go, eyes glued to his purple jacket as the latter finally disappeared round a corner. Worry flitted through him.

What if something went wrong? What if there were too many pirates and Marco was overwhelmed? Ace slapped his hands to his face, covering them in frustration. What was he doing? How could he have…

_He doesn't even trust me._

"_We can't risk you."_

_Not to watch his back. Not even my own._

"_So listen to me and wait here, okay?"_

Something wet clung to his eyelashes. His breath caught. A sob got stuck in his throat. He wasn't worth it. A huge wave of darkness crashed into him, nearly knocking the breath out of him. It seemed to suck his very soul from his core, darkening what light his flames tried to keep alive inside him. Ace closed his eyes as a tear fell onto his cheek.

It was almost strange, how the darkness that invaded his head was so different from the one when he closed his eyes. One was heavy and horrifying, the other still and empty. Together, they suffocated him.

The fire-user lowered himself to his knees. He couldn't do this. If anything happened to Marco, he would never forgive himself. He'd stab a knife through his heart first, drown himself, tear his fucking heart out. Because none of his brothers were supposed to get hurt. To even get the chance to get hurt when he was around. They were supposed to be happy and free because they _deserved _it. They weren't like him. They weren't tainted. They didn't drag anyone down with them on their darkest days- if they even had any.

A loud breath escaped his parted lips, almost in the form of a whimper. His chest constricted. It…hurt. Was this what it truly felt like to be in pain? Because he wasn't bleeding. But it sure as hell felt like he was bleeding _inside_. It was getting hard to breathe and gosh, it was so heavy.

Ace rocked himself. One hand clutched his chest. The other wrapped around his knees, hugging himself as he whispered quietly to himself. _Nothing wrong with me. I'm alright. There is _nothing_ wrong with me. I'm alright. Nothing wrong. I'm alright. Nothing wrong._

_Nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. I'm alright._

A distant part of his mind knew he was being irrational. Getting worked up over silly things. His stupid anger and then feeling like he was about to fucking die with grief. _Crying _suddenly. Hell, Ace remembered being disgusted with himself when his eyes began to tear up because he couldn't find his hat. Because suddenly everything was wrong and nothing was going right and he _couldn't find his hat_.

Choking on a sob, Ace forced himself to his knees. No. Marco- his new family wouldn't want him anymore if he continued being useless like this. He couldn't be a burden. He'd never survive if they threw him out. What would he say to Luffy? Luffy had always insisted nothing could defeat his big older brother. What if Luffy didn't want him as a brother anymore, when he found out Ace wasn't as indestructible as he thought he was? And to be defeated by something he didn't even understand.

_Snap out of it! Stop being such a wimp!_

Wanting nothing more than to just curl up on the ground and disappear, Ace stood on shaky legs. He needed to do something. Take his mind off the stupid feeling in his chest, and the heavy cloud in his head. He wiped his face roughly.

The cliff, he remembered. He could…scout the area. Take a look. He had been a Captain before. Perhaps…he wouldn't be as useless as he thought he was.

He wasn't. He'd prove them wrong.

...

Ace had always been good at lying to himself.

* * *

_I could never be the same  
Something I never could erase  
I could never look away_

* * *

Marco heaved a sigh of relief when he finally, finally crept out of the base. The base was huge, if anything, but he still believed it to be an ostentatious piece of scrap for people who proudly called themselves pirates. Pirates roamed the seas and lived freer than the skies. They weren't bound to the confines of any particular land.

He almost wanted to take the place down, more so to assuage the annoyance at these so-called wannabes who dared sullied a pirate's name. Still, he had his orders and, more importantly, Ace was waiting for him.

Marco couldn't possibly describe his relief when Ace had agreed, though the dejected look nearly had him taking back his own words. They now just had to complete this damn mission, head back to the ship and get that warm cup of coffee he had promised. After that…well, the phoenix didn't exactly know what he'd do with Ace. He would probably consult Thatch, the only one who had an inkling of how serious things were with their young fire-user.

Spotting the boulder, he started into a jog. The idea of leaving Ace alone for even a moment more than necessary left him uneasy. He turned the corner, expecting Ace to be moping in a corner or asleep- not gone.

"Ace? Ace!"

Marco scanned the area wildly. He swore. Ace wasn't here. He was gone. Apart from the muddy footprints dug deep in the ground, there was no fucking trace of his brother. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

The trees were too high, the undergrowth too dense to catch Ace from above. If he flew above the canopy, there was no where he'd be able to either. Panic filled him. If it was Thatch, he wouldn't have worried as much but Ace wasn't himself then. Marco wasn't sure he trusted the grey-eyed teen from doing something stupid.

Marco frowned as he stood stock-still. His phoenix-form had a heightened sense of smell. He hadn't been away too long either. He could probably track down the kid before anything serious happened, but… If he flew under the canopy, the enemy's watch house could definitely spot him. _Damn it_. Blue flames flying in the fucking air wasn't an everyday occurrence, after all. Not for the first time, the pirate cursed his devil fruit type. It was a fantastic ability but damn it cause him inconvenience. Like earning him the nickname 'chicken' by his own chaotic family.

He glanced at the way he came. There was nothing for it then, he decided. Mission or no, family came first.

With one flick of his wrist, Marco morphed into a phoenix, blue flames licking across his body. He launched off the ground, keeping himself low against the forest floor as he began to earnestly follow his brother's scent.

* * *

_Your whispers fill these empty halls_

* * *

Ace stood over the ledge of the cliff.

What was he thinking? There was nothing here.

Nothing to scout. Nothing to check. Everything was as it should be. He sighed in disappointment, the tight feeling in his chest constricting a little before seeming to release him from its relentless grip. He should probably head back. Who knows how long more Marco would take in 'their' mission. A bitter feeling slid into him at the thought.

He hated this. He hated everything.

Ace was about to turn back when he cast one last look over the churning river beneath the cliff. The river led to the nearby waterfall, he knew. At least…he thought it did. The teen never seemed to remember things easily now. From the river, the forest continued, before breaking into two until one part met a small village and port and the other an abandoned shore where their ship was harboured.

A soft wind breezed through his hair, wild tresses falling over his cheeks. Ace almost smiled. He raised his hands. This…was freedom, so reminiscent of memories long gone, though he hadn't had freedom at the time.

Just like that, the negative feelings in him faded away. A blissful feeling rose in him, making him feel light and even content. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only him and the wind and the skies.

If only he could fly. That would make everything so perfect.

Portgas D. Ace closed his eyes. Darkness filled his world and, quite suddenly-

-he was falling-

-and his world truly went dark.

* * *

_I'm searching for you as you call  
I'm racing, chasing after you  
I need you more_

* * *

Marco broke out of the forest onto the cliff just in time to watch in frozen horror as Ace – his little brother – raised his hands and-

-fell right off the cliff.

"ACE!"

Behind him, a group of pirates let out a furious battle cry.

* * *

***gasp* So much dialogue and thoughts. Honestly, this fic is hardly moving forward but what do I do? I can only write them that way. :/**

**Leave a review if you're excited for the next chapter? :D Or, of course, if you have feedback, criticism and so on and so forth.**


	6. Drowning

**Surprise?**

**I was going to update "Stuck" first, but then I remembered I had updated two chapters in a row for that one, so I instead chose to update this one next. THANK YOU all for the wonderful reviews, story alerts and favourites. I really appreciate that each one of you spent even a little bit of your time to click that button or to put in some good words for me. Thank you.**

**This past week just sucked. Oh yeah, it's Monday. It's a new week. Still? A huge thank you to **_Lifeless_ Heartless**, without whom this chapter would not have come out today, and for cheering me up when all ****I wanted to do was sleep and do nothing all day. It's even longer than usual! I usually cap my chapters at most 3k words (excluding author's notes).**

**To** _Winter_**, I'll just give you a hug now, okay. I've always felt that Ace would feel perhaps the freest on high ground, as that's the place he'd been going so much to with his brothers (Luffy &amp; Sabo). :D Thank you for the review!**_  
_

**To** _Guest_ **and **_Guest_**, I'm sorry for being so hard on Ace! :( Thanks for the review! :D**

**To be honest, this chapter was hard. I wanted to keep it exciting but, well, I tried? I hope all of you will enjoy it and not be disappointed!**

**Again, song inspiration by Skillet, "Would it Matter". I wonder, do any of you see how the song fits in? And for the past songs in previous chapters too. :D I'd love to hear your theories, if you have any.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

_If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care?  
If my time was up, I'd wanna know you were happy I was there  
If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anyone lose sleep?  
If I wasn't hard and hollow, then maybe you would miss me  
\- Would It Matter _by _Skillet_

* * *

When Marco was young, at the tender age of nine, an old neighbour of his had talked to him. He had been making a ruckus in the small, unknown town of his childhood home when officers had come rushing with that glint of disapproval in their eyes, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt as he dangled and kicked and shouted for them to let him go. They had dropped him none too gently on the doorsteps of his home – if he could call it that – and knocked loudly on the door. They had realised a little too late that no one was home, and there wouldn't be anyone for a long time to come.

It was then that a neighbour of his had walked by. He went by the name Himawari Yoh, but the townspeople had simply called him the 'Kindly Old Man'. The old man had opted to take the young Marco in and was the one to impart various skills such as cooking, hunting and the likes to the sulky child. But what the boy always remembered, even unto the man's funeral to the day he took up Whitebeard's mark was the old man's words when he had done something wrong.

_There will be one moment, Marco. One moment when the world will freeze around you, where the sun will stop rising and the moon will stop turning, where the wind will pause and hold its breath, and grass go harsh and still beneath your feet. There will be this one moment when you will see only one thing: your mistake._

_And you will regret it, child._

Marco finally understood the old saying.

_You will regret it because that mistake is important to you, but somehow you let it go._

His shocked blue eyes followed the disappearing form of his brother and, for once, he didn't see anything else. He didn't hear the battle cry behind him, only the loud pounding in his ears; didn't react to a blade that slashed at his back, only to the terror that suddenly seized hold of his heart; he didn't even smell the cackling of blue flames that engulfed his frozen form as it healed the gash in his back, only of the horrid stench of a familiar dying man he envisioned in his mind.

It was only when the tips of Ace's jet-black hair disappeared from sight that Marco snapped out of it. His whole body shuddered as his mind finally caught up to him. _You fucking bastard, Ace!_

He morphed into his Phoenix form, letting out a sharp trill for good measure as he ignored the sudden shrieks behind him. If Ace fell in the water, there was nothing he could do for him. The river was strong and an unconscious pirate who couldn't swim was as good as dead. Marco leaped off the edge of the cliff but snarled when something grabbed his feet and dragged him back. His beak hit the stone floor. Fury battered through his mind as he managed to catch a glimpse of his ailing brother a few feet from the water.

"_LET GO OF ME YOUR BASTARDS!_"

A wing smashed into some of the RedRum pirates, knocking them to the ground. He jumped to his feet. About twenty, with more do doubt were hiding in the trees, stood with weapons aimed at him. Panic filled him. There was no time. Any longer and- Marco's eyes widened as he heard the one sound he didn't want to hear: a loud splash.

One of the enemy pirates, a man with a jagged scar on his cheek, laughed mockingly, though it was all plain bravado. The commander could see how his legs trembled and how his fingers gripped his sword so tightly it shook. Soon after, many followed their leader's example, calling out taunts at the splash that signalled Marco's despair.

"See how he fell, men! Probably shaking so much at the thought of fighting us he'd rather fall to his death!"

For the first time in a long time, the Whitebeard commander saw red. These men would pay. They would suffer the whole brunt of Whitebeard's, his father, and all his brothers and sisters' wrath for insulting one of their own. For _hindering_ him from saving Ace. Marco once again leapt into the air. He engulfed himself in bright blue flames, sending the fire streaking into a column of hot flames that rose as high as the tallest trees. His phoenix form trilled and trilled and trilled as he pushed himself to glow brighter. He strained his muscles, pushing his wings on gushing air as the flames went higher and higher, his calls never faltering.

Once he caught a glint of reflecting light in the distance, he stopped and fell back to the disturbed pirates below him. He bared his teeth. They would not leave this site unharmed.

For now, this was the only thing he could do for Ace. He could only hope the emergency signal was enough for his family to reach his brother in time.

* * *

_If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care?  
Still stuck inside this sorrow, I got nothing and going nowhere_

* * *

Ace opened his eyes seconds just before he hit the water. He flailed slightly, grey eyes widening, as he took in the quickly moving landscapes. The air that brushed through his falling form slapped him as he continued his sharp descent towards the…_oh shit_.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. He screwed up.

Grey eyes looked wildly around him, searching desperately for an exit, an escape route. There had to be one somewhere, right? There was no way it'd end like this. It couldn't. Something inside him seemed to break.

He hadn't repaid them enough yet.

The fire-user turned his body. His arms waved wildly as he tried to grasp hold of something – _anything_ – to stop his fall. _What the hell was going on? Why was he falling?_ Did someone push him down? Was it… _No_, he told himself sternly even as he became dangerously closer to the surface of the water, _it couldn't be_. Even if Marco was the only one who could have known he'd be there, it couldn't have been him. Of course Thatch, Namur and Vista would have known but the idea that any one of them had pushed him off didn't leave him feeling any better. They were brothers. Brothers protected each other…right? Even then, Ace couldn't truly convince himself. It must be the adrenaline rush.

A loud ringing echoed through the teen's ears, distracting him from his thoughts. Panic and, even despite being the famed pirate he was, Ace couldn't stop the fear that rushed through him. Was this how he would meet his end? Alone and drowning in dark waters he wasn't even familiar with?

Just as he was about to crash into the river, he took in a huge breath, hoping to hell he wasn't just prolonging his pain of dying and that someone would save him. A loud splash was cut halfway and, just like that, his world was completely dark except for the rare rays of light that penetrated the waters successfully.

The water was cold. Ace could feel himself being dragged with the current even as he continued to sink deeper.

The fear thrummed harder through his blood. His heart pounded loudly in his chest. The water dragged at his strength, sapping him until he began to feel the beginnings of exhaustion drain at his body. Bitter frustration filled him. This was how he would die.

Not in grand battles or defending the ones he loved, but a meaningless death that the fucking World Government would say any self-proclaimed pirate deserved. He would pass on. His name would eventually fade until it was completely forgotten. Portgas D. Ace would just be another name in history that no one would know. And when Luffy was gone, he would completely disappear.

After all, a man truly dies when he's forgotten.

The frustration morphed into a deep sadness. Ace parted his lips. Tiny bubbles of air escaped. He screwed his eyes shut. The Whitebeards – his new family, he couldn't help but think of fondly – would move on. He was just one of the many, and had only been with them for a while. It was probably a vain hope to think they would mourn him, even if it was just a little. More bubbles left his parted lips. His fingers twitched by his side.

At least…at the very least he would stop burdening them with his lack of strength.

Not a moment later, a blinding pain seared through the back of his head. Large domes of air exited his mouth.

The teenager fell into darkness.

* * *

_I know I'm a mess, and I want to be someone  
Someone that I'd like better  
I can never forget so don't remind me of it forever_

* * *

_Hair as dark as the midnight skies, piercing eyes as grey as the reflection of the moon, skin as tan and smooth as the richest' deepest desire. Tiny freckles dotted his cheeks, always pulling a few years from his true age. His lips are sharp but full, but abused by his own teeth. When he smiled, the world looked brighter, the stars twinkled and the air more light-hearted. His teeth are white and pure, and his tongue a sinful temptation. For a boy of just a little over seventeen – and nearing his eighteenth birthday – this D. carrier was tall, but only by a few inches._

_Portgas D. Ace was the child borne of the beautiful Portgas D. Rouge and son of the passed Pirate King, Gol D. Roger._

_With the beauty and strength and pure willpower as is his birthright of two D. carriers, Portgas D. Ace would be a force to be reckoned with._

_He would be the one to move mountains, the one who to make the earth shake, the one who would challenge even the worst storms and raging seas and still come out alive and stronger._

"_Jii-chan?"_

"_What is it, Ace?"_

"…_was it a good thing that I was born?"_

_He was sitting on the hill top, his grandfather beside him. It wasn't the first time he asked the question. Every time he did, his grandpa would just give him one long look before answering: "That depends on what you grow up to be."_

_Grandpa had told him at a very young age of his true parentage. He had said to keep it close to himself as if his life depended on it; and depended on it the secret did. If anyone knew Gol D. Roger's blood flowed through his veins…he'd be dead in an instant._

"_What if I don't become a marine, grandpa? Does that mean I become evil too?" Ace asked, voice small._

_A huge hand suddenly bore down on him and he flinched reflexively. The vice-admiral must have noticed the movement as the limb suddenly slowed. The hand landed on his head with a slight _huff_, ruffling his dark mane of black locks. "There are many pathways in life, Ace," he said in a gruff voice. He looked to the horizon. "What you become does not necessarily make you evil. It's what you do." He frowned when he caught the confusion flash across Ace's childish features. "In other words," he went on, "if a marine does evil things like kill people, it makes them evil. It doesn't matter that they are supposed to deliver justice. Evil people do evil things, Ace."_

"_Then, can a pirate be good, grandpa? What if a pirate doesn't do evil things? Does that make him a good person?"_

_The marine tensed. "Why do you ask? You're not intending to be a pirate, are you, Ace?"_

"_No!" Ace exclaimed. He jumped to his feet. "I mean," – he cast his eyes to the ground – "Did my…Did Gol D. Roger do evil things? Did he do good things? He could have been a good person, right?"_

_A sad look entered the elder man's eyes. "Your father was a pirate, Ace."_

"_Yes, but, you just said evil people do evil things! Didn't my father ever do good things? Grandpa?"_

_His adopted grandfather only petted his hair. That was the last time Ace ever acknowledged Gol D. Roger as his father._

_Suddenly, Ace wasn't sitting on the hill top anymore. He wasn't five anymore, but instead sixteen – and turning seventeen that midnight – standing before his brother's grave with that solemn, solemn eyes. A red sake cup stood at the base of the grave._

"_I'm leaving, Sabo."_

_The wind ruffled his hair. A hand crept up to keep his orange hat in place. "Luffy gave this to me, you know," he continued quietly. It didn't matter how loudly he spoke. The dead could either hear him…or not. "You had one. Luffy has that ridiculous straw hat. Do you like mine? Your idiot little brother said our hats would further mark us as brothers, whatever that means."_

_He heaved in a deep breath. "I don't know if I'm ever coming back. I don't know which brother I'd see next- Luffy or…you. Don't give me that, Sabo." A small smile curved his lips. "Being a pirate isn't exactly the safest journey. I'll be taking my sake cup with me, so you can watch over me. You will, won't you? But if you have to choose, watch our little brother, since I won't be here to keep him out of trouble anymore. Just this morning he fell into a croc's mouth. Again! I swear he does it on purpose to scare me." He sighed, tucking his hands in his pocket, a touch of yearning washing through him. "Whatever happens, all three of us will be together once again. Sooner or later. Please wait for us some more."_

_He turned to walk away, waving a hand behind him. "Wish me luck, brother."_

_The hill fell away into darkness. It pushed in on the walking fire-user but he never stopped walking. He checked himself. His hat was on his head, his bag slung across his right shoulder. Although he didn't know what was inside the bag, he knew his red sake cup was inside. As long as he had these with him, it was okay. Everything would be fine._

_The darkness seemed to form into a tunnel, a tiny light gleaming at the end. Ace squinted. He was almost there. He quickened his pace. For some reason, the blackness around him seemed to press into him further, no longer comfortable. Whispers resounded across the walls._

"_There he is…"_

_A light wind touched his arm and he jerked in panic._

"_Roger's son! The Pirate King's son!"_

_Cold dread flitted through him at the words. His jog turned into all-out running. He had to reach that light. Was Sabo waiting at the end? Was this the end?_

"_Don't let him goooooo!" someone wailed._

"_Look at the darkness he alone is causing! Someone get rid of him!"_

"_NO! Purge the earth of this evil!"_

_He was causing this darkness? Goosebumps trailed along Ace's skin as he sprinted for the end. Sabo hadn't had to face this as he died, did he? Sabo…no, he shouldn't have. Only evil ones like- grey eyes widened. He was…evil?_

_/ Evil people do evil things, Ace. /_

_The teen tripped. He fell hard on his face, his knees scraping against the ground. Ace scrambled to his feet. He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not _to this_. Before he could go on, he realised with great despair both his hat and his bag were gone. He looked around him wildly. Where were his things? Where were they?!_

"_We have them."_

"_We have them. We have them. We have them. We have them."_

_Harsh laughter._

"_G-give them back." Ace's voice cracked. "Give them back!"_

"_Dirt like you shouldn't have things to cherish and love. Evil doesn't need love. Evil needs to be punished."_

"_Give them back!" he shouted. He ran towards the voices. "GIVE THEM BACK TO ME!" _

_Tears filmed his eyes. Was this grief? He wasn't able to breathe. Everything was compressing on him, forcing him to his knees. He gasped. "Please. I need them. They're all I have," he whispered._

_A hand suddenly shot out. Ace wasn't sure how he could tell it was a hand against the darkness. It was black, faintly outlined by traces of blue and red. Long nails extended from the fingers. It slammed into the teenager right at his chest, at his heart. Ace gasped as he froze completely._

"_We shall purge this world of evil."_

_It curled its fingers around his heart._

"_We shall cleanse this world from you."_

_Ace swore he stopped breathing._

"_Son of the Pirate King."_

_The hand tore away from him, his heart in its grasp. And that was all he was, wasn't he? Son of the late king. It was all he would ever amount to._

_The light at the end of the tunnel glimmered slightly before extinguishing into nihility._

* * *

_All the chances that have passed me by  
Would it matter if I gave it one more try?_

* * *

Thatch burst through the trees. "What's going on? Where's Ace?" he asked immediately when he caught sight of the heavily breathing Marco. "Hey, are you-" He cut himself off. "Oh."

Circling around Marco were the pirates they were supposed to be after. The RedRum pirates, he remembered. Armed, and Thatch remembered they were famed for being brutal in their attacks. This would have worried him a little – one can never be too careful, after all – but seeing all the pirates in various states of consciousness made even him wince in pity.

Marco's voice was strained. "Thatch. You got my signal?" he went on urgently.

Thatch noted the panic hidden in the blue orbs. Something uneasy settled inside him. "We got it. You-" He was cut off again when Marco suddenly grabbed his collar, yanking him towards the edge of the cliff.

"Get him," Marco was saying. His hands trembled. "Go save him."

The uneasiness the fourth commander felt stirred into something deeper. His eyes widened as realisation set in.

Whatever that seemed to hold the phoenix together crumbled into dust. "NOW THATCH! He can't- He's been-"

"How long?" Thatch whispered, digging his heels into the ground. Marco stumbled alongside him, before continuing to drag the other pirate further. "Stop it, Marco!" he demanded. "How long? How long has he been inside?"

The blonde rounded him, fixing two cerulean orbs on his fiercely. "Long enough," he snapped. "Now save him before it's too late!"

* * *

There was something about the cool water that soothed him.

It caressed his skin, swirling around him, curling across his shoulder blades to his arms to his toes. It felt nice, as compared to being on land all the time. Too bad he couldn't do this often.

The deeper he went, the darker the water became. It seemed almost appropriate. The seas weren't for everyone after all.

It took him a moment to realise there was something floating in the distance. Someone, he corrected. He pushed himself to go faster, his hand reaching forward to grab the man's arm. The body was completely limp.

Worry flitted through him. Was he too late?

* * *

Thatch stood his ground. "Marco, it's too late-"

"Don't tell me that! We can still save him!"

"Listen to me. Na-"

A snarl. "Stop wasting time, Thatch!"

Thatch shoved his arms against Marco's chest. "Namur's gone to get him!" he shouted. "There's nothing we can do now!"

His friend suddenly froze. "Namur?" he repeated softly, a note of disbelief echoing his words.

"Yes, Namur, our resident fishman," Thatch said dryly. He eyed the unconscious and wounded pirates around them. "Care to tell me what happened?"

The blonde pushed him away. He headed to the edge of the cliff, scanning the rivers single-mindedly. "It was nothing."

Anger started to pulse through the chef. He narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Let me tell you what happened. We were waiting around, for your signal that everything was going fine. You took too long. So we went ahead to find you. We were more than halfway through our trek when we saw your emergency signal."

There was a brief silence.

"How did you know? That he had fallen in," Marco finally said.

Thatch looked at him for one long moment. "The RedRum pirates aren't a big deal to us. Ace's fire was missing from your emergency signal, which meant he was in trouble. And you couldn't save him." He shrugged. "Namur was gone before I could say 'damn it'." He paused for a while. "When I figured it out, I didn't believe him," he admitted.

The blonde chuckled to himself. "So that's why you were surprised," he whispered softly.

The fourth commander moved to stand beside the phoenix. He too began to scan the land below them. "Are you going to tell me what happened or not?"

Silence greeted him. Annoyed, the man glared at the other. Whatever it was, he would get to the bottom of this. Marco was supposed to watch Ace, to guide him along and make sure that stupid idiot stayed _safe_, beyond anything. Now the mission was screwed up. And Ace was…somewhere. Hopefully in Namur's hands and alive. Thatch tried to push his concern away. Ace wouldn't die like that. The kid was too stubborn for his own good.

He sighed. "Namur will get him. If anyone can get Ace in time, it's Namur."

Marco suddenly grabbed his arm. Thatch looked up in time for the blonde to morph into his phoenix form. He yelped when talons grabbed his shoulders, immediately dragging him off the cliff as Marco carried them to skim over the river.

"What the hell, Marco!"

That was when he noticed a light reflecting back at them in the distance. Relief washed through him. Ace was found.

* * *

_If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anyone lose sleep?  
If I wasn't hard and hollow, then maybe you would miss me  
…Would it matter at all?_

* * *

Marco dropped Thatch on the ground, ignoring the indignant squawk, as he landed nimbly to his foot. He caught sight of Namur and…he faltered. Ace was lying unconscious beside him. The fishman was busy trying to resuscitate the unconscious pirate, barely sparing them a glance.

This was his fault, the phoenix thought. He knew something was wrong with the fire-user. He wasn't even speculating anymore, he fucking _knew_. Confirmed with his own bloody eyes that something was plaguing his younger brother and he let this happen? Tension locked onto him as he shuffled forward to kneel beside Ace, Thatch right beside him. Namur forced another breath into the teen, his hands immediately going to his chest to keep him breathing. To keep him alive.

"Come on, Ace," Thatch was whispering beside him. "Come on." A hand touched Marco's shoulder, nearly painful in its grasp.

_Fuck_. How did he let this happen?

He should have called off the damn mission. Should have dragged Ace back and talked to him. Anything. Not this. Not with the usually energetic kid lying on the forest floor, pale and out cold, like he was so fucking ready to die. This wasn't even the sea. No pirate should die on land, he thought almost bitterly.

_How could you have stopped it? If he wanted it to happen, he would have whether or not you were there. Maybe not today. But someday._

Even then, Marco couldn't believe it. Ace had fallen off. He wasn't pushed. He wasn't…He didn't jump, did he? He closed his eyes in guilt. Please let it not be suicide. What had they done to push their little brother off the brink? _Why_ hadn't Ace come to them? Didn't he trust his brothers?

Just then, a loud gasp greeted them.

Marco started, almost sagging in relief when a pair of disoriented grey eyes blinked. Ace heaved, choking as he rolled to his side, coughing out what water remained in his lungs. Some blood splattered on the ground.

"Ace!" Thatch cried out happily. Beside him, Namur sighed as he sat back on his heels.

Even as relief flitted through him, it was quickly replaced by furious anger. The kid had some nerve. Doing that, scaring the hell out of them. Despite taking the vow to be each other's family. Striding forward, he grabbed the teen's shoulders and roughly yanked him back to meet a confused Ace.

Fear flashed through the grey eyes. "M-Marco?" he whispered hoarsely, voice breaking.

The commander narrowed his eyes. He jammed his fist into the pirate's face.

* * *

_Stuck in this sorrow  
Going nowhere_

* * *

**I hope it was okay!**

**Also, if you realise, there is a meaning behind every gesture. For example, the hand that was outline in blue and reddish hues. Guess what that means?**

**I also realise I'm not that good at writing from Thatch's POV. Oh well. I can't really describe how he fees and how he's supposed to act.**

**Do leave a review if you're excited for the next chapter! Feedback, critique, questions, etc. I'd love to hear them. :)**


	7. Sworn Brothers

**Hey everyone!**

**Finally, the next chapter.**

**Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and story alerts. I love you all! :D**

**To** _Guest_**, thanks for the review! I know. The poor dears, but the story has to go on...**_  
_

**To **Winter**, hey there and thanks for the review! I think his ship-brothers do want to open him up somehow but it's not so easy when Ace doesn't even know he needs that right now. Oh, Marco's punch will do something...maybe not this Chapter, but maybe the next or the one after that?**

**To** _Guest (2)_**, thanks! I'm glad you're excited for this chapter. Hope it doesn't disappoint! **

**To** _waterwolf_**, thanks for reviewing! I think so too. But then, while he's the older brother, he still has a lot to learn when it comes to the younger ones. No brother is exactly the same as another, after all. Thanks again!**

**ALSO, this chapter is a filler of sorts so don't expect too much. It'll be the catalyst for the next phase in the story so...watch out for it, yeah? As for "Stuck", I'm not sure when I'll update that yet.**

**I realised I forgot to write warnings for the previous chapter so here it is:**

******WARNING:  
************Please read this before you go on to the story. I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. If I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.******

******Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.******

* * *

_I'm searching for answers  
'Cause something is not right  
\- Dangerous Mind _by_ Within Temptation_

* * *

Thatch was, as most of his brothers would say, a truly happy person. His childhood and later years weren't filled with much hardship. When he became Whitebeard's son, he could easily say it was the best decision he had ever made. He was surrounded with so many people to play pranks on, a family who wouldn't resent him for his love for the fun and exciting, brothers who would laugh along with him as he ran from his latest prank victim. And with the strength of the Whitebeard pirates, he hadn't lost any close brothers to the sea to feel actual grief. But on the days he did, he didn't smile.

Today was one of those days.

The fourth commander's smile fell the moment Marco's fist slammed into Ace. Somehow, he knew Ace's wide-eyed look in that moment would haunt him for as long as he breathed.

Ace crumpled to the ground, his elbows scraping against the ground as he clapped a shaky hand to his bruised cheek. Marco stood above him, blue eyes cold and absolutely murderous. For a moment, there was a period of silence where no one moved or made a sound. The soft wind breezed through the trees, rustling leaves and pushing through the grass as the river meandered beside them as obnoxiously loud as ever. Nothing was silent, and all things moved, but for the four pirates in the clearing on a small island somewhere in the New World, everything was still.

This was broken when Ace hitched on a gasp.

With a rush of startling anger, Thatch moved forward. His teeth bared in a snarl, he jerked the idiot blonde commander away from their youngest brother. His eyes bore into the cerulean eyes and, for a second, he wondered how he had ever felt the barest ties of kinship to the man.

"Thatch!" Namur warned.

The person in mind ignored him. No. There was something going on and Thatch was _not_ a Whitebeard pirate if he let this go. He yanked Marco closer, leaving their faces only inches apart.

"Give me _one_ reason, Marco," he hissed quietly. "Just _one reason_ why I shouldn't toss you into that river and watch you drown."

Marco narrowed his eyes. "This has nothing to do with you. So mind you own damned business."

A loud ringing echoed in the fourth commander's ears. Before the phoenix could shake him off, Thatch pulled his arm back and with a single thought running through his mind, he punched the bastard across the face.

_That's my brother, you asshole._

* * *

_I follow the signs  
I'm close to the fire_

* * *

Ace remained on the soaked ground, his eyes wide and blank, not even registering the grass beneath him. He had stopped coughing. Yet, his throat still felt painfully raw whenever he breathed through his mouth out of reflex. He vaguely remembered the many times he had fallen into the sea but had walked away with a stern reminder not to breathe through the nose after that. It was always easier then. More air. Less pain.

His left cheek throbbed and the fire-user held a hand over the bruised area. Something wet touched his eyes. Marco had punched him. One of his favourite brothers had struck him across his face. Marco had…

He hitched on a breath.

A faint part of him registered some scuffle behind him but he pushed it aside. He couldn't help it. He couldn't help but suddenly remember how he had been falling to his untimely death from a cliff when only his brothers should have known where he was. He couldn't help but remember the suffocating feeling of helplessness as he drifted in the waters, knowing that _no one would save him now_. Couldn't help but remember the moment his eyes closed and everything went dark. A darkness he had felt for sure would haunt him till the end of time.

And then Marco _hit_ him. Why? Ace had thought that maybe he could tell Marco everything. About how he swung from outright happiness to rage to downright dispiritedness where his world just went dark and there didn't seem to be any reason for him to keep on moving. He had wanted Marco to know how he couldn't sleep, and about the nights where he slept for so long but still felt exhausted afterwards. Bitterness flitted through him. He had finally felt he could admit the unbidden tears that would come for no reason at all.

"_Ace…won't you tell you big brother what's wrong?"_

Tremors racked through him.

"_We're going to go complete this darn mission, head back to the ship, where we'll have a nice cup of coffee together, okay?"_

They weren't going to have that cup of coffee together after all.

Ace could almost feel the hate directed at him as he just kept on lying on the dirtied ground. Why should he move? His brothers must hate him for being so weak.

"Ace?" Thatch's soft voice penetrated his increasingly dark thoughts and he jerked away. Disgust filled the teen when he saw the pitying look he received from the other pirate. "Are you okay?" Thatch asked as he reached for the teen's arm slowly, almost carefully, and like the meek child trained by the ever forceful parent, Ace allowed himself to be tugged into a half-embrace as his brother - were they still brothers? – as the pirate pulled him to his feet.

"Come on," Thatch whispered. His arm wound itself around his waist tightly. "Let's get you to the infirmary." The commander steered them towards the Moby Dick.

Ace's eyes widened then as the first rays of feelings flickered through him. "No!" He dug his feet into the ground. "No," he repeated when Thatch looked at him in surprise. "The mission," he muttered as he turned his body to look back at the cliff. His gaze brushed through Marco's rigid figure as the latter stood by the river, his back to him and his hands covering his face, and the teen stiffened. Namur was standing beside the blonde. He cast the fire-user a long stare but looked away when Ace turned to look at him.

He ruined the mission, didn't he? That was why Marco was mad.

"Hey," Thatch interrupted him. "We've completed the mission. It's all done now." He looked searchingly at Ace before moving again.

"But…" Ace faltered. "What about Marco?" he whispered.

Thatch's grip on his waist tightened and he winced. "Forget about him," he said darkly. "Let's just go home and then we'll talk about it, okay?"

The freckled teen cast his gaze to the ground as they made their way through the forest. "Okay."

The moment Thatch had said 'home', Ace wasn't left with a choice.

* * *

_I fear that soon you'll reveal your dangerous mind_

* * *

_Marco stood by the shore, his proud back facing Ace as the latter watched in silence. Their family was just about finished with their preparations to set back out to sea. The water lapped at the commander's bare feet. It washed until just below his ankles, before receding quickly, as if afraid of the man's clearly veiled strength and power._

_Somehow, this man whom Ace had looked up to even during his moments of self-denial before his initiation as an official member of the Whitebeard pirates seemed so untouchable. So far away. So out of reach._

"_Marco?" he called softly. Without waiting for an answer, Ace padded towards the silent man. His fingers brushed the ends of the purple jacket. "Marco?" he tried again. "I think we should head back to the ship. They're almost done."_

_Again, there was no answer. Marco simply stood, rigid and tall, staring at the setting Sun. Uproarious laughter came from the direction of the Moby Dick and Ace turned, anxious to return._

"_Marco!"_

_Like a miracle, the commander turned. Yet, instead of relief, dread flitted through the younger fire-user as he watched the phoenix turn to the source of the call: Vista._

"_Yeah?" Marco hollered back._

_Vista waved him towards the ship. "Time to get back! We're heading off soon! Unless you want to fly yourself over." The pirate snickered to himself._

_Marco threw him a dry look but started towards the Moby Dick._

__There was something wrong here. _To Ace, it almost felt like a dream. His brother was walking away from him. He didn't even acknowledge his presence behind him. Something akin to fear danced in his stomach. "Marco!" He ran after him. "What's wrong? What did I do?!" When the blonde commander only carried on, Ace hardened his resolve. He was a pirate. He shouldn't be scared of his own _brother_._

_The teen grabbed Marco's hand and yanked him back. "Stop ignoring me!" he demanded, glaring at the older man._

_Blue eyes slowly drifted to stare him down. "What are you doing?" Marco asked slowly._

"_What the hell do you mean? Why're you ignoring me?"_

_Marco raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid you have the wrong person, Ace."_

_Ace's glare grew fiercer. He fought against the drop in his stomach. "Then how do you know my name?" he hissed._

"_I have no idea." The older pirate turned to walk away, but Ace held fast to his arm._

"_Don't walk away from me!"_

_Marco snatched his arm away. "Let go of me," he commanded._

_Ace looked at him in confusion. "Marco," he said quietly. "I'm your brother. Why are you like this?"_

_The commander's eyes turned cold, the one he reserved for enemies that weren't even worth fighting against. "We're not family," he sneered. "Don't think you can worm your way into the Whitebeards so easily. If you want to be one of ours, you have to get through Oyaji, but," – he glanced at Ace's form – "you clearly don't meet the mark."_

_Harsh laughter erupted from the freckled teen. "Okay. Okay, what did I do? Marco, please," he pleaded. "It's not funny. Don't play this kind of joke on me."_

_The blonde simply shot him a pitying look before showing his back again to the teen, his feet already carrying him nearer to home and further from the man he had sworn to be brothers with._

"_What did I do?" Ace cried as he watched him go. "What did I do!? Marco!"_

_There was no answer. The heaviness in his heart brought him to his knees as the man in the purple jacket began to disappear._

* * *

_It's in your eyes, what's on your mind  
I fear your smile and the promise inside_

* * *

Ace woke to someone slapping his cheek lightly. "What?" he grumbled. He looked around him. "Wha- Where am I?"

Thatch sat back in his seat, looking strangely proud of himself. "In the infirmary, you little punk. Gave us a right scare for a moment there." Noting the confusion on the fire-user's face, he explained, "You fell asleep when the nurses were treating your head."

The teen sat up. He noted the sterile white walls, the row of empty beds and the machines surrounding the room. Right. "Oh." A thought occurred to him. "My head?"

Thatch grinned as he leaned back. "Yeap." He enunciated the word with a loud 'Pop'.

Ace waited, but then went ahead when the pirate just stared at him happily. "What's wrong with my head?"

A look that Ace had quickly become familiar with plastered itself on the commander's features. The fire user tensed and, sure enough, Thatch launched into a worried tirade. "What do you mean by that?" A look of horror crossed his features. "You didn't lose your memories, did you? Did you? Damn it! Where are the nurses? Doctor!" he hollered without turning to look at the door. He slapped a hand against the teen's forehead. "No, you're not hot." He grabbed Ace's shoulders and shook him violently. "Do you remember me?!"

The freckled pirate shot him a dry look. "Thatch, very funny. Now sit down and explain to me why I'm here." When Thatch only grinned wider, he rolled his eyes. "Hopefully before the doctors come in and really think I lost my memories. 'Cause then they can't blame me if I land _you_ into the bed over there."

"Want me for company already, don't you?" the chef laughed. He raised his hands in surrender. "You got me. It's nothing serious. You just got a concussion. Doctors said you received a blow somewhere at the back of your head. We just have to wake you every few hours while you sleep." He shrugged when Ace frowned.

"Oh. That's it?" At the nod he received, the teen asked, "So am I released or..?"

"Nope, not released yet."

Ace observed curiously as his brother discreetly checked the room over for other...people? Once the pirate seemed satisfied, he turned back to the teen, his expression solemn.

"Ace," the chef began. He leaned closer. "First off, I want you to know I respect you." He held up a hand when the younger looked to interrupt. "I respect you," he repeated seriously. "And I respect your privacy. I understand I may seem intrusive, but remember that it's only because you're my brother, and beyond everything, I care about you."

Oh. Somehow, Ace knew where this conversation would lead. He looked at his hands. "I don't want to talk about it, Thatch."

Thatch seemed adamant. "No," he said firmly. "This has gone on long enough. Hey!" He waited until the younger looked up. "Look at me, Ace. Look at me and tell me there's nothing wrong." A sadly triumphant look crossed his normally cheerful face when the fire user failed to do as he asked. "You see, you can't do that."

"There's nothing to talk about. There's nothing wrong," Ace said quietly.

The commander heaved in a deep breath before exhaling. "Marco punched you."

Ace winced. _Yes, he did, didn't he?_

"Why did he punch you?"

The freckled teen shot him a disgruntled look. "How the hell would I know?" he snapped. "I can't read minds."

"No, you can't," Thatch said carefully. "But no one besides Marco and yourself should know what the hell is up with you two." He sighed when Ace remained silent. "Ace, do you know how worried he was when he couldn't reach you in time? He almost threw me off the cliff trying to save you. We were lucky Namur got to you in time or you wouldn't-" He cut himself off as he looked away, his features grim.

"Or I wouldn't be here," Ace finished for him. He smirked to himself. "Funny how life plays out like that, huh?"

Thatch didn't look amused. "This isn't funny. First I see Marco going out of his _mind_ because he couldn't save you himself, and when you're saved, he punches you in the face. Let's not forget how both of you were fighting before this mission even started."

"Why don't you just ask him?" Ace said bitterly. He recalled the dream he just had and unbidden tears sprang to his eyes. _Maybe he's pissed I _didn't_ drown. _Stupid Marco. Stupid him. Why did he always feel like crying?

At that question, Thatch glowered at his hands. "I won't. He _hit_ you. No matter what excuse he's made for himself in that stupid birdbrain mind of his, he shouldn't have laid a finger on you."

Something uneasy stirred in the fire user's stomach then. "Thatch," he began carefully. "What did you do?"

The chef closed his eyes for a moment, then stared Ace straight in the eye. "I punched him in the face."

Shock washed through the younger at the admission. "What? Why?!"

"He punched you. I punched him back. We don't let someone get away with hurting one of our own, remember? Whitebeard family rule."

"But he's ou- your brother!"

Thatch frowned at the slight catch in Ace's words. Disbelief marred his otherwise calm features. "Weren't you going to say 'our'?" The disbelief morphed into hurt and outright bewilderment. "Ace, he's your brother too. How can you say he's only mine?" he said indignantly.

Ace averted his gaze in guilt. "I-I know." The fire user pulled the blankets draped over his body and swung his legs over the bed. "I should probably head back," he muttered.

A hand shot out to grab at his arm. "Marco is your brother too."

That was the problem, wasn't it? It hurt all the more because of that. The teen gave out a long, drawn-out sigh. "I'm just really tired, Thatch. All I need is some sleep and I'll get better." At the disbelieving look he received, he added, "I promise."

The older pirate seemed to give in. Somehow, a part of Ace fell at this, but he angrily shoved the stupid feeling aside. This was what he wanted. Some space to think and then move the fuck on.

"If you ever need someone to listen to you, or even someone to rant on, I'm always available. Do you hear me?"

The fire user forced out a grateful smile and nodded. "I know. Thank you."

Thatch ruffled his hair, smirking when the younger glared at him and batted his hands away. "Get some sleep, kid. We'll wake you every few hours." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And I mean, sleep _here_. I did say you weren't released yet."

"Oh, fine. Now go away and let me sleep in peace."

Ace sighed again when the other pirate left the room. He settled back on the bed, grumbling. The beds in the infirmary were never that comfortable. It was probably one way of convincing the ship's residents not to get wounded in battle.

_Yeah, except you got hurt by falling off a cliff for no reason at all._

…except, Ace didn't fall on his own. He remembered vividly blacking out as he stood over the edge, and then he was falling.

* * *

_Its' in your eyes, what's on your mind  
I fear your presence, I'm frozen inside_

* * *

The next time Ace woke up, he panicked. He had touched his head for his beloved hat when his hand touched his hair instead. He had looked the entire room over and finally he gave in and freaked. His hat was gone.

He belatedly realised the hat must have fallen off while he was happily drowning. It must have been swept into the sea or was eaten by those stupid sea monsters or got stuck under some rock where it'll rot forever until the end of time or _something_ 'cause it was not with Ace where it should _fucking be_ and the teen would never forgive himself for this and-

The inner tirade was stopped when someone slammed him onto the infirmary floor.

"What the hell are you doing to my room?!" one of the doctors yelled at him.

Ace looked up at him, clearly upset. "My hat's gone! Did you see it? Did someone take it?" He jumped to his feet. "Tell me! My _hat_ is _gone_!"

The doctor had given him one look before shoving him out the door, muttering about inconsiderate patients who couldn't even keep from messing up the rooms of the people who healed them. At Ace's downcast look, he gave in. "Go find Marco or someone who went on the mission with you. They should probably know something." He closed the door.

Hope rekindled, Ace hollered out a 'Thank you, doc!' before running down the hallway. He'd find Thatch or Namur and, if that didn't work, he'd go to Marco. Surely the blonde wasn't still mad at him. Doubt flitted through him. Marco hadn't come to see him even once.

He pushed the depressing thought away when he saw the fourth commander turning a corner. "Thatch!" He skidded to a stop but still failed from slamming into the pirate.

The chef laughed even as he peeled the fire user from himself, obviously used to the kid running into him. He ruffled the kid's hair playfully. "Out of the infirmary and already kicking up a ruckus, Ace?" he teased.

Ace grinned. "Sorry," he muttered. A glance to his left and he stiffened. Marco was looking at them, a placid expression on his features. Blue eyes slid to watch Ace before he blinked.

"I'll be going ahead, Thatch. Oyaji wants to see me." Without waiting for an answer, he walked away.

Ace scowled. _Thanks so much, Marco. _He tried to squash the hope that maybe they could still catch that cup of coffee together if the blonde had gotten over whatever he was angry about with Ace. _Can't he just get over it already?_

Thatch coughed expectantly into his hand and the teen turned to look at him. Ace remembered the reason he had come looking for Thatch and the anxiety returned full-force. "Did you see my hat?" he asked urgently.

The chef raised an eyebrow at that before breaking into loud laughter. "I was wondering when you'd ask. Namur fished it out of the river for you. We'd set it to dry after cleaning it." There was a light twinkle in his eyes. "It's in your room, kid. No thanks to your wonderful big brothers."

Ace rolled his eyes but heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm not a kid," he couldn't help but add.

"Of course you're not," Thatch humoured him as he began to steer the teen towards the deck. "So, in order to be a mature adult and show your rightful thanks to your brothers, why don't we go play some pranks on the unsuspecting ones?"

"Wasn't Namur the one who saved my hat? And aren't you supposed to go see Oyaji with Marco?"

Thatch waved his concerns away. "I helped you _dry _it. Doesn't that count? And Oyaji only wants to see Marco. That chicken does the serious stuff." He then pointed at himself. "While _I_ do the important stuff like lighten our loads and bringing laughter and joy to the family."

Ace snorted. "Whatever, Thatch. I'm going to go get my hat before we go bring about 'laughter and joy to the family.'"

Before the chef could inflict more damage to his hair, Ace ducked out of the way, already running to his cabin. He stuck out his tongue at the fourth commander and laughed when the latter called him out for being childish. As he expertly moved through the hallway, he was greeted by various brothers. Some even pulled him into a hug and reminded him to be more careful next time. Ace would just grin at them before moving on.

...

The smile fell the moment his cabin door closed behind him.

* * *

_I'm searching for answers not questioned before  
The curse of awareness, there's no peace of mind_

* * *

By the time the week ended a few days later, Ace was more than a little hurt that nothing had changed between Marco and himself. The blonde commander avoided him and at the rare occurrences they do meet, he'd simply walk away without even acknowledging the younger's presence. No one but Thatch and Namur had noticed (though Ace suspected the latter only because he had been witness to the Incident, as he had dubbed it).

The fourth commander had tried to intervene but whatever they had been discussing in Marco's room had resulted in the former slamming the door before holing himself up in _his _room until he had to prepare for dinner.

…_remember that it's only because you're my brother, and beyond everything, I care about you._

While Ace felt almost touched, he couldn't help the accompanying guilt. The two commanders wouldn't be arguing if it weren't for his own weakness.

He did consider going up to Marco himself but the nagging feeling that Marco had been there when he fell wouldn't leave. The fire user had spent nights pondering on the possible sequence of events and…what other option was there?

He had left the clearing behind the boulder even though the first commander had explicitly told him not to. He'd gone to the cliff on his own and fell off even though only Marco should have known he was there (chances of unknown pirates would have alerted him). Ergo the blonde must have been mad at him for disobeying orders, went after him, pushed him off in his anger but couldn't save him in time 'cause the RedRum pirates got in the way. _One plus one_, he thought bitterly. There it was. The only logical explanation he could think off.

And the punch? Marco must have been furious with him for almost dying too.

_Stop being such a coward, Ace. Go to him. Go find him. Make things right because, hell, this is all your stupid fault._

Sighing to himself, he got up and went to find Marco. His brother. He had to do something. The very thought that Marco would never talk to him again was too depressing for him to take.

* * *

_It's in your eyes, what's on your mind  
I see the truth that you've buried inside  
It's in your eyes, what's on your mind  
There is no mercy, just anger I find_

* * *

"Get out."

Ace planted himself in front of the door, refusing to budge. Marco was standing across him, his hands crossed and his blue eyes narrowed into slits. "No."

"Get _out_," the blonde repeated. He took a step closer. "Before I make you."

The younger pirate swallowed the lump in his throat. He was barely able to bring himself to look at Marco and he _hated_ that he couldn't. "No," he said again. "Marco, please. I'm sorry I left the clearing when you told me not to. I'm sorry, okay? Don't be mad at me anymore."

The commander in question only glared at him. "I think you're misunderstanding something, Ace. Yes, I'm mad- no, I'm furious at you. But it seems you still don't understand why." He pointed at the door. "So leave before you disappoint me further."

_Disappoint me further… _"Then explain to me what I did wrong!"

"What you did _wrong_?" Marco looked incredulous. In a flash, the expression was gone and he was bodily shoving Ace against the door. A fist slammed next to his head and the younger pirate stared at him with wide eyes. "I don't _trust _you, Ace," he hissed, his breath ghosting over the teen's neck. "Not anymore. 'Cause apparently you don't trust us either. You should know as well as I do how we place trust above anything else because that's what keeps us together as a family."

Ace gaped at him. "Of course I trust you!" he spluttered.

"Then admit to me _how_ you fell off that damned cliff. Can you?!" When the freckled teen remained silent, the commander chuckled humourlessly. "Get out of my room."

The younger pirate reached for him. "Marco, please," he pleaded softly. "What did I do?"

Marco spared him one long, unreadable look. "You're messed up, Ace. Until you can answer my question, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you."

"But we're brothers!" Ace cried out. Yet, the cold look in the other's blue eyes made him falter. "Aren't we, Marco?" he whispered.

The older pirate closed his eyes, then pierced him with another of his steely gazes. "Brothers can trust each other." Without another word, the blonde pushed the teen out of the room and shut the door.

Ace was left stranded outside, unable to help but recall that nightmare where Marco had walked away and never looked back.

* * *

_It's like spiralling out of control. You lose your sight, your hearing, your touch, your mind. You lose everything. And then you think you're going crazy 'cause everyone else is fine.  
\- Anonymous_

* * *

**That's it. That's the chapter. How was it?**

**I honestly think I have an issue with dialogue but...I like dialogues. What can I say?**

**Do leave a review if you're excited for the next chapter! And, if you have feedback, questions, constructive criticism etc., just shoot them at me!**

**Also, because I feel bad about writing about blah blah blah up there, here's a synopsis of what's going to happen within the next few chapters.**

**SYNOPSIS:  
The tip of the knife dropped onto his pale skin, slicing a thin straight line down his palm. He watched, sickly captivated, as crimson rivulets trickled from the wound, forming a tiny pool of red liquid on the very palm of his hand. Like magic, his heart seemed to lighten.**


	8. His Promise

**Hey there!**

**First off, I am sorry I took a long time to update, but life's like that, isn't it? We have things to do, assignments to see to, people to meet and where do that leave us? Somewhere stuck in the world we each live in. Not that I'm unhappy about it. I just have been so busy, and well, feeling a little down at the moment.**

**Thank you for all your reviews, favourites and follows! I'm sorry I couldn't respond to each individually again. I do think all of you would prefer a quicker update than that, however, so here it is!**

**And, again, I can't be sure when I'll update next (though next update will be for my other fic: "Stuck") but I'll squeeze it in somehow, just like I did for this one. I miss writing so much, and I can't wait to get roll out the next few chapters. We are finally reaching the main part of the story! Well, soon, anyway. :) So do watch out for it.**

**Again, same warning.**

**WARNING:  
****Please read this before you go on to the story. I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. If I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.**

**Do enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

_I am right here with you  
I couldn't be more close  
Pretending that I'm in this moment  
When I'm only a ghost  
\- So far away_ by _Red_

* * *

Portgas D. Ace had never been the happy child.

He used to laugh and smile like the radiant sun when he was still on all fours. When he crawled over anyone who came in his way, soft giggles escaping his childlike lips as he ran from Dadan or the occasional annoyed bandit. Those days were but a faint memory to him now. It all stopped, after all, the moment his grandfather had told him of his lineage.

Somehow, Ace didn't know whether to curse the skies for the blood that ran in his veins, or to sink to his knees and kneel to his fate.

"_Scum like Gol D. Roger should die."_

"_Any child of his should never have been born!"_

"_A woman? Which woman in her right mind would stain herself with that accursed pirate's name?"_

Ace's childhood was bleak and dark. At least, it was until Sabo and then Luffy who came to light up his world. And, years later, his newfound family that he saw in the Whitebeards. Gosh, he loved them for that. No matter that no one knew who his real father was. He loved them for the pure reason that they made him feel wanted. That he _belonged_.

Something dark settled inside the fire-user as he stumbled back to his room. It stirred something inside him. Something ugly and revolting and utterly disgusting.

_"You're messed up, Ace. Until you can answer my question, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you."_

Marco didn't want to see him? Didn't want to talk to him? Ace slipped into his room quietly. The door clicked shut behind him as he slid to the floor, back against the wooden door.

"_Brothers can trust each other."_

"_I don't _trust_ you, Ace."_

A hand reached up to clutch at his chest. There was something wrong with him. He was fine. Ace was fine. Yet, there was a throbbing ache where his heart should be. It pounded heavily inside him, beating that cursed blood through his veins, loudly. Painfully. Why did he feel this way? Why did every breath suddenly feel like it should kill him instead of keep him alive?

Was this grief?

Soft laughter escaped the teen's parted lips. It grew in tandem as the pirate leaned his head back, his chuckles morphing into mirthless laughter. His shoulders shook. The laughter suddenly stopped. "You don't trust me, Marco?" he whispered to himself.

He didn't understand. It was only a simple fall out. Everything would be fine…right? Marco would get over that stupid anger of his and they'd be okay. Just as they had been the past few months.

…except, he thought the same a few hours back. Now, he was holed up in his room, alone and…afraid.

_Damn you, Marco._

He held himself close.

_Didn't I tell you I didn't want to be one of you. Not if you were going to throw me away anyway._

* * *

_And I feel so far away  
Far away from everything_

* * *

Marco leaned his head against the dull wood of his door. Guilt and a feeling of utter self-loathing pushed through him but he angrily shoved it away. No. Ace needed this. That kid _needed_ to hear it and for him to say it. Nothing else would wake the kid up, right?

"Che." He brought a hand to his head, wishing for nothing more at the moment than to slam something, someone, _anything_ into the wall. Frustration welled inside him. He couldn't believe…He had just told Ace they weren't brothers, at least until the younger admitted to having allowed himself to fall.

_Then what are you going to do then, huh? What will you do when – if – he admits it? Go for that cup of coffee you promised?_ he inwardly sneered at himself. What was he thinking?

What can an older brother do in the face of a troubled younger brother? Marco was the first commander of the Whitebeard pirates, but he had no idea how to handle this. He hadn't thought he'd ever see the day the bubbly, cheerful kid would throw himself off the ledge. He couldn't stop the wild panic that fluttered through him, or the ice cold fear that thrummed in his veins when he though Ace would never wake up. Even now, he could feel those cursed feelings coursing through him.

Marco groaned softly to himself. He made his way to his bed and dropped his body on the mattress, feeling it bounce slightly under his added weight. He draped one of his arms across his eyes.

He had broken his brother's heart, hadn't he?

That shell-shocked, almost betrayed, look Ace had given him was already carving its way through the deepest recesses of his mind. The commander wasn't even going to try stop it. He had chosen to push the teen away to force the latter to his feet, instead of guiding him to stand on his own.

He smirked emotionlessly to himself. To reach out to Ace was to acknowledge that there was something truly wrong. This was his punishment.

For not knowing what to do. For giving in to what was easier.

The smirk changed into a disgusted curl of his lips. When had he turned into such a coward?

* * *

_I don't want to waste time, living a half-life  
Are you listening?  
Now give it back to me  
I remember everything, the way it used to be_

* * *

The Moby Dick was unusual in the luxury it afforded its over a thousand-strong residents. Most ships – at least, most pirate ships – had only the basic necessities to ensure there was enough space for a fight and enough logistics that they could last without heading back to land too soon. This ship, however, had enough rooms that at least a quarter could have a room to themselves (Ace was one of them); each cabin was equipped with a large window if it was facing the sea (again, the fire-user's room happened to have it too), a closet, a study table and a mirror that hung off the side of the door.

Although he was only a member of the second division, Ace had been forced to use the room during his first days on the ship, a consequence of his apparent tendency to fall sleep against the railing and then promptly falling headfirst into the frigid waters. He had refused to use the room or to sleep anywhere else, labelling the Whitebeards as 'sadistic bastards' who would slice his head right off the moment he turned his back. By the fifth time they had to drag him back to the deck, out cold and drenched, the pirates finally resorted to threatening the safety of his former crew – the Spades Pirates – before he acquiesced.

Nevertheless, it was a relief to have some privacy from the then overbearing pirates. The room remained his even as he transitioned from an 'enemy' (at least, he thought himself an enemy to them) to a member of the Whitebeards to a brother to the family.

It would be an understatement to say the room had not been his form of comfort as he lived the days away.

He staggered through it, his shoulders heavy, eyes downcast. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew his family – _the Whitebeards_ – were starting to notice. He heard the sudden whispers as he walked through the hallways and he could feel their gazes on his back the moment he turned away. For the first time in a long time, barely anyone approached him for an offer to hang out together, or for even a drink. That stung him like the edge of white-hot coal.

For the life of him, he couldn't understand what changed. Had Marco told them to stay away from him? Did they know of his stupid reckless behaviour which had almost gotten him killed?

Something ugly grabbed hold of his insides and twisted. He _hated_ this. Gosh, the teen resented them for making him feel so empty and so…lost. And Marco… If only the idiot had forgiven him already. They would have moved on and Ace wouldn't be feeling like nothing mattered anymore. They could have talked it out like the mature adults they were supposed to be. Yet…_ That jerk. I swear, I'm never going to him again_.

He rested his arm against the wall he was leaning against, some hallway he was in as he headed back from dinner. Alone. He remembered a time when his brothers would pull him in for games, pranks or those star-gazing sessions he so loved to have.

After a week of silent treatment from Marco, Ace had taken to having dinner in his room. He would make quick work of his food, packing them in a neat brown box before he swiftly escaped the dining hall before most of his brothers trickled in. From experience (he had always been one of the first to dash in at the first mentions of food), most of the ship's residents would only crawl in about fifteen minutes past the given bell. Needless to say, he had done this the past few nights as well.

He probably wouldn't say he was sulking, or just revolving around some stupid matter about a brother being upset with him. Ace just didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment. They tire him. At times, he didn't know if he wanted to turn tail and run or just burn the fucking hell out of them.

_Marco…_

He gritted his teeth.

_I'll never let you make me feel this way again._

* * *

_And I feel so far away, far away from everything  
Outside wondering when I got lost  
I throw my arms out in the air  
Why do I disappear?_

* * *

"Ace!" Thatch called. The pirate ran up to the teen who was leaning against the side of the Moby Dick.

The fire-user looked up, his gaze flat, before turning his head back to look over the vast sea. Thatch inwardly sighed. Something had clearly occurred between the two idiots – Ace and their resident birdbrain, Marco – and now one was left moping about in his cabin while the other went on his duties as listlessly as the dead. _Was it too much to hope for that they'd resolve whatever it is already?_

The fourth commander stopped by the younger pirate. He eyed him carefully. "Not heading to bed yet?" He steered his gaze to the darkness that shrouded the ship and the deep waters. Tiny bright twinkles dotted the blanket of black above them. "It's dark out," he murmured pointlessly when the teen didn't deign to reply.

The answer came as a soft whisper. "I can see that."

Truth be told, Ace looked horrid. His complexion was pale. His hair had seemed to lose that shine it was unfairly prone to, and the tired, dark circles beneath his grey eyes indicated too little sleep. Even his movements registered a sluggish heaviness that Thatch couldn't deny. It worried the older pirate and the others, whom he knew were beginning to notice that their youngest was changing; and not for the better.

"You know," the pirate began, weaving the only comfort he knew how to give. "When I was a child, other kids used to tell me that I had ugliest laughter ever."

A faint look of surprise crossed Ace's features. "Ugliest?" he repeated quietly. His eyebrow twitched. "You?"

Thatch smiled warmly at him, nodding even as he danced victoriously inside his head. The kid barely responded to anyone these days. "Yeah. Said I sounded like a choking barn animal. Something between a horse and a pig, to be specific." He pouted. "As you can imagine, I wasn't very happy about that."

Although the younger didn't deign to answer, the wide-eyed look the fire-user shot him was encouragement enough. "I guess you can say I learnt the foundations of pranking from them." The fourth commander settled himself more comfortably and then began to spin another of his wild tales (that did hold some truth to it). Perhaps it was a vain hope, but Thatch had always been the one to bring laughter and smiles to the family. And now, Ace clearly needed that.

He was about to finish the story when he heard it. He turned sharply to his left just in time to see a glass bottle crack and shatter upon impact on – _shit_ – the back of Ace's head. A harsh wince crossed the younger pirate's face even as Thatch turned to glare furiously at the assailant. His gaze narrowed at Jozu and a few other idiots who were laughing raucously from the second level of the ship.

"What the hell?" he shouted. He then noticed the deep flush on their cheeks and he inwardly swore. "Are you drunk, your complete _morons_?!"

Jozu held his stomach as he waved awkwardly. "Sorry, mate!" he slurred before breaking into another round of laughter. "Was 'iming at the sea!"

Thatch hissed under his breath. He waved them away. "Get out of here before I toss you in there." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "You have three seconds to scram."

As the pirates grumbled but thankfully left, his hand rose to brush the shards of glass from the teen's hair and back. He stilled when Ace flinched. "Are you alright, Ace?"

Grey eyes darted to meet his. "I'm fine." His body tense, Thatch could only watch as the teen stepped away from his arm's reach.

"It was just a group of drunk idiots who weren't thinking, Ace," Thatch said softly. "It's not a big deal."

There was a brief flash of…hurt? And wounded pride before the same grey eyes hardened into cold steel. "I know that, Thatch," Ace snapped. "Am I a child to you?" He turned away. "If there's nothing else, I have duties to attend to."

As the fire-user stalked off, his lean back disappearing in the distance, for some obscure reason, Thatch suddenly recalled those months when Ace had refused to be one of them.

"_You don't think he regrets joining us, do you?"_

* * *

_I listen to the words you're saying  
Words I'm fighting to believe  
It's like I'm living from a distance  
Where you're out of reach_

* * *

Glancing at his watch, he inwardly sighed when he noted he had ten minutes before his duties as watch that night. Unfortunate or not, he almost always shared his shifts with Marco. He had been overjoyed at the beginning. As soon as he became an official member of the crew, the older man had taken to taking him under his wing. The blonde would drag him around as he taught Ace the ropes and was quietly patient as the younger man flailed to fulfil his responsibilities as a Whitebeard pirate.

Naturally, pairing them together for night duties was the kind thing to do. It probably didn't help that Marco was the one who was in charge of the logistics either.

Why was it that it always came back to that stupid phoenix?

He made his way to the deck for night watch, his insides squirming and half hoping that the blonde was late or…well, he tried to squish into oblivion that overly optimistic part of him which hoped Marco had gotten over everything and was up for a good long talk.

He slowly climbed up the crow's nest. His breath hitched when he caught sight of the dark figure at the top, only for his gaze to fall a moment later when the figure turned out to be Izo.

A delicate eyebrow lifted daintily at him. "You seem disappointed," he remarked, his dark eyes raking across Ace's form.

"I'm not," Ace retorted, though his voice lacked the usual bite. "There's no reason for me to be that way," he muttered under his breath. He settled himself away from the other pirate. A small pout unconsciously made its way to his lips.

A scoff from somewhere behind him only made him fume. "If you wanted Marco to be here, you can always find him in his cabin, you know," Izo said conversationally.

"Why would I do that?" The teen glared at the deck. From his position, he could see several brothers lingering on the deck, some tipsy while others chatted idly under the night sky. "I actually have things to do."

"If you insist…I was only sugg-"

A thought occurred to the younger pirate. He whipped his head around to stare at Izo with widened eyes, effectively shutting the latter up. "Wait! You mean, he's not actually busy and couldn't make it?" While Marco was being a fine prick right then, he didn't think the blonde would actually have someone _replace him_ to avoid meeting him.

Something flashed across the kimono-clad pirate's features and his steely gaze visibly softened. He came neared and patted the fire-user's shoulder. "I didn't say that," he murmured. He then raised his voice. "I just meant perhaps both of you should have a good talk with each other. Even Oyaji is taking note of your sudden change and Marco's too."

The hurt immediately morphed into concern. "Oyaji?"

"You didn't think he wouldn't notice, did you?" Izo scoffed lightly. "I would be surprised if even a quarter of the ship doesn't know there's something going on between you two."

"Oh." Unspoken was the mild admonishment in the elder's words, he knew. But he had already approached Marco and yet… He sighed. "It's not going to work, Izo. So you might as well give it up."

"How do you know that?" Izo countered. "Marco isn't the type to turn you away if you want to work things out."

A line of derision entered Ace's voice. "I'm sure. That's exactly what happened when I tried to do that," he said sarcastically. "He was a right ray or sunshine."

"You went to see him already?" Izo asked, surprised. A dark look fell over him then and for a moment, the teen's heart beat faster at the sight. Izo may be one of his dear brothers (one of the closer ones apart from the blonde and Thatch), but no one tried to annoy him too badly. Pranks were pranks, but the pirate's anger was a force to be reckoned with. "When?"

"About over a week ago?" Ace answered, albeit hesitantly. He remembered the look on the blonde's face and he winced at the thought. It still hurt as freshly as it did then.

"_You're messed up, Ace. Until you can answer my question, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you."_

"It didn't work out well," he added at the curious look he received.

Izo broke his sharp descent into a depressive state. "What did he do?" His tone was firm, and Ace knew the pirate would only be placated by the truth.

Yet, it still stung him. This was his problem. There was no reason for the pirate, or anyone else for the matter, to poke their noses where it shouldn't be. Izo must have sensed his growing irritation and squeezed his shoulder.

"If you don't know what to do, perhaps it is best if you accept some form of feedback," Izo said patiently. "Or were you going to let it be and hope for the best?"

Ace blinked. The irritation dimmed a little and then completely vanished at the tender look the elder gave him. Quite suddenly, the fire-user wanted nothing more to pour out his worries and concerns and _hurt_ to his brother. It didn't take long before the words spilled from his tongue, telling Izo everything from the late nights he had where he couldn't sleep to the hours where he slept for so long and yet felt tired anyways to the whole incident during the mission and finally to that awful moment where Marco had slammed the door in his face.

By the end of it, he felt completely strange and very different to how he was feeling earlier on. He wasn't in pain, but there was that strange feeling in his throat and the oddest burning in his eyes.

"Ace?" Izo said worriedly, his gaze losing that hard edge for the moment. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," the teen croaked. Something wet dripped onto his cheeks and like the breaking of the storm, he let out a gasp. Was he…oh gosh, he was _crying_. Why was he crying?

"Ace…" Izo gave a little sigh and for some reason that hurt the fire-user even more.

"I hate this," he muttered even as he choked on another breath. He couldn't believe how much he had changed over the course of a few weeks. Crying was a weak thing to do. It was…_human_. It was stupid and pathetic and only children did that. Ace hadn't cried for years when he was younger after Sabo had died. There was no reason for him to cry now.

"It'll be okay," the other pirate said softly. He put an arm around the younger's shoulders and pulled him close. "Everything will be fine."

Ace couldn't find it in himself to believe him. "How?" he demanded. He was feeling despondent all the time and Marco wasn't speaking to him and the entire ship was treating him strange and even his adopted father was beginning to notice. What if they felt he wasn't good enough anymore and felt the way Marco felt about him? What if they decided to kick him out?

Where would that leave him?

"I promise it'll be fine," Izo said firmly. "You just have to hang in there, okay? You're not alone, Ace."

"I don't see how you can think it will turn out alright," Ace countered, wishing the tears would stop. He dropped his head in his hands, shame burning its way through his flushed cheeks. "I'm upset all the time. I don't feel happy doing things that should make me happy. I messed up my first mission. And, M-Marco, he-"

Izo cut in sharply. "Forget about Marco. It's not your fault he decided to be a complete bastard."

Surprised, Ace blinked at him, his grey orbs bright and wet from the tears that slipped from his lower eyelashes.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'll make sure it'll be fine," the kimono-clad pirate promised. He lifted his free hand and wiped the moisture from the younger's cheeks, only for it to be turn wet again. "Come now, stop crying, little brother. It ruins your good looks."

Whatever effect Izo had been aiming for, Ace was sure he only gained the opposite. The moment he heard the term 'little brother', his shoulders shook and a choked moan left his lips, nearly pushing him over the edge of hysterics. He half-heartedly batted his brother away from him as he turned away and dropped his head into his hands again. "I hate this," he gasped, struggling to control himself. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Maybe…you should speak to Oyaji," Izo suggested. "I'm sure he knows how to-"

The words were out before he could stop them. "_No!_" Ace nearly shrieked. "You can't tell him! You can't!"

Izo looked taken aback. "Why not? Oyaji knows much more than we do, Ace. He-"

"I said no!" the fire-user insisted. A thought occurred to him and he lifted his gaze to meet his brother's worried ones. "It's true, I swear, Izo! I didn't mean to ruin that mission. I don't know what happened but I just…I just messed it up but I didn't mean it!" His hand shot out to grab at the other's arm tightly. "Please don't tell him. You _can't_," he whispered.

If Ace had been calmer, he might have spotted the line of panic entering Izo's frame. "Hey, hey," Izo hurried to reassure him. "I know you didn't, alright? I only meant to speak to Oyaji about your sleeping habits and maybe why you're feeling upset all the time. We don't have to mention the mission at all."

The teary-eyed bordering on hysterical look Ace gave him told him all he needed to know and he visibly deflated. "Alright," he conceded. "We won't go to him, not unless we absolutely have to."

It took Ace a while to fully calm down. While he just stood there and tried to will away the ridiculous tears, Izo murmured soft reassurances that all would be fine, his hands occasionally patting his shoulders. He would even try to wipe the seemingly endless tears.

"There we go," he murmured when the fire-user finally calmed. He lifted his hand to ruffle his hair when he stopped. "Ace," he said carefully, plucking something from the back of the younger's head to reveal a shard of glass. "What is this?"

Ace peered at it and, oh. Must have been those idiots who threw a glass bottle at him earlier on. He told Izo so.

"They threw glass at you?" Izo repeated in disbelief. His eyes narrowed and Ace felt a shiver run through him.

"It was an accident. It's not a big deal, Izo." That was what Thatch had said too, wasn't it?

"And you say Thatch was there…" Izo murmured thoughtfully. He flicked the glass into the distance where it probably fell into the sea. For a fleeting moment, Ace silently hoped it wouldn't somehow hit some poor fish and kill it. To die like that…what was the point? Then he realised how absurd he was being and tried to shake himself out of it. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was driving himself crazy.

Before he knew it, Izo had him sitting on the floor and had a blanket that he drew out of nowhere draped over him. "I'm supposed to be on night watch!" he protested but the stern look he received silenced him.

"You just told me you had trouble sleeping. What sort of an older brother would I be to keep you up?" Izo retorted. "Besides, I will not have you tramping around the ship with those horrid eye bags. You'd give anyone a right scare. So sleep, Ace. Don't make me sing you a lullaby," he quickly added when the teen opened his mouth to speak.

"Fine," Ace grumbled. Nonetheless, it didn't stop him from glaring at the older pirate before giving up.

Surprisingly, it wasn't long before he was fast asleep.

* * *

_How can your love be so close, when I'm so far away?_

* * *

A knock at the door to his cabin woke him up.

He turned under the covers and hoped whoever the hell it was would get the message and leave him alone. If he was right, it probably wasn't even three in the morning yet. He swore when the thumps didn't stop.

Grumbling under his breath, the pirate stumbled to the door, fully intent on giving the jerk the tongue-lashing of his lifetime. Or maybe even a good blow to his face. Unless it was Ace, of course. Ace was different.

He opened the door. "What the hell-" he began but a hand shoved him back into his room before slamming the door.

"Shhh. Do you want people to hear us?"

Thatch looked at his brother in askance. "Marco?"

The blonde pirate shot him an unimpressive glance at the state of his attire and he choked out his indignation at being caught in his nightwear. "I was asleep!" he defended. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Ducks, Thatch?" Marco said idly. "I didn't know you were fond of them."

Thatch glared him but cross his arms over his shirt. It did nothing to hide the grand display of yellow ducks on his attire though and he flushed a little. "At least they're better than you, you bastard," he retorted. "What do you want?"

If Marco was surprised by the hostility, he didn't show it. Instead, he exhaled loudly and went to sit on the bed. It took him a moment to respond but Thatch patiently waited him out. He may be pissed at the first commander but they were still brothers and he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"I need your help," Marco said quietly.

All traces of annoyance left Thatch's features. "What do you need help with?"

Bleak blue eyes lifted to meet his. "Ace. I don't know what to do."

There was a long, drawn-out silence. After what seemed like ages, the chef tilted his head to look at his brother thoughtfully. "What do you need me to do?"

The answer was strained. "I don't know."

"Do you know what's going on?"

"I don't."

If Thatch had been anyone else, he would have at least wanted to wring the birdbrain's neck. As it was, he only nodded and went straight to work. "Telling me what you do know could help. From the beginning."

Marco gave him a long look but did so. He recalled the incident from the start to the end, how he had seen their youngest falling to what seemed to be his inevitable death and shared even his moment of shame where he had shut Ace out when the younger sought to resolve the rift between them.

When he finally stopped, Thatch levelled him a look and said, "You're one bastard, Marco." That was the only signal he received before Thatch socked him in his jaw again.

Swearing, he got back to his feet, one hand rubbing the sore spot that now marred his once unblemished skin. "I deserve that."

"Yes, you do," Thatch said darkly. "Don't ever give me another reason to hit you again, Marco. That's the second time now."

The blonde nodded. "I got it. So what do we do now?"

Thatch glanced at the window. They had hours before dawn broke. Well, there goes his sleep. "Find out what the hell is going on," he answered. Who needed sleep, anyway?

* * *

_Remember when you found me drowning?  
Pulled me from the deepest end  
I promised I would never leave you  
But now I'm drowning again_

* * *

The flowers _reeked_.

That was only thing that came to mind as the fire-user stumbled back to his cabin after his night watch ended. Somehow, one of his brothers had decided that the Moby Dick needed _flowers_ of all things and had gone completely out of his way (gone mad, the others had said) to squeeze various plants in random parts of the ship. Sunflowers, orchids, lilies, roses, carnations. Ace didn't even know the names until he had asked. And resulted in over an hour's worth of teachings on the many, many types there were in the world.

Being the ever loving family they were, no one had felt inclined to stop that brother of theirs. Their father had merely laughed it off. The others took it in their stride and swept away the strewn, loose petals that occasionally littered the floors during their shifting duties around the ship.

While the teen didn't particularly mind, the now obscene smell made him want to puke. It wafted through the heavy air, drifting through the halls with that strong, pungent odour and _screw it_, Ace wanted to burn them all to ashes. He wanted to set them aflame and watch the fire lick at the edges before painting those ugly colours into beautiful charred black.

In fact, he had the sudden inexplicable urge to burn everything around him. Anything. He wanted to release his flames and just let go.

He wanted to fight and use every fibre of his being to stay alive. Wanted to feel the adrenaline rush pulse through his blood and make him feel _alive_. He hadn't had a decent battle in months.

The last one was a simple spar between brothers and he couldn't count those battles between himself and Whitebeard. It was so one-sided it wasn't worth thinking about.

Just like that, his mind was made up. The longing to feel that strain in his muscles and the feeling of being _free_ tugged at his insides. Ah. That was what he had- _was_ fighting for, wasn't it? His promise to Sabo and then to Luffy was to live his life in freedom.

To have freedom was happiness.

Right now, he wasn't free. He wasn't happy. He was breaking his promise, wasn't he?

Before he knew it, his small travel bag was all packed up and slung over his shoulder. He took a moment to leave a short note on his bed. He took one look at his room and the realisation struck him that it looked bare and empty. As if no one had lived there at all. A feeling of sadness filled him them. Had he so little things that he couldn't even mark the room as his own when he left?

A moment later and he was shaking himself out of it. It wasn't like he wasn't returning. He just needed a breather.

Not fully understanding why, he snuck around the ship, trying to avoid anyone as he made his way to his skiff. He got one bad scare when Jozu came up to him and apologised for last night. He waved him away as he uttered assurances that all was fine before the pirate could notice the bag on his shoulders.

With one last look behind him, he leaped onto his skiff, pulled away from the Moby Dick and he was soaring through the seas with the blissful wind raining on his form as he happily glided his way around the vast waters.

A sense of euphoria filled him then. His arms in the air and the fire at his feet, one true smile pulled at his lips and it wasn't long before he was laughing to himself. He revelled at the feeling of the sun beating down on his back. Soaked in the pleasure of the sea spattering against his angles even as he whipped around in endless circles.

When a large sea creature pulled up beside him, he could barely stop himself from whooping in the air at the very excitement that thrummed in his veins.

_This_, he thought, _was freedom_.

He couldn't deny the relief he felt at the respite from his often depressive state. If this was the feeling he had whenever he was out alone, he didn't think he could bring himself to return for a while.

Portgas D. Ace never thought there would be a day where he wanted to quit. A day where he desperately wanted everything to stop. The world to pause, to give him a moment to catch up and _breathe_.

He never thought the day would come where he wanted to drop everything and go back home, to Luffy and Dadan and the bandits, to the forest on the island where his grandfather would drop by every few weeks.

But, for now, he would settle for this.

He was happy and that was enough.

* * *

_It's killing me with every breath  
Witnessing the life I left  
Only you know who I am  
I'm reaching out my hand  
I wanna feel it, wanna mean it when I say it  
Can you hear me at all?_

* * *

**That's it for today. I hope my writing skills hasn't dwindled or anything..Heh.**

**Do review if you're excited for the next chapter!**


	9. Under the Weather

**Hey all!**

**For all of you are reading this, thank you very much for coming back for this fic. I know it has been a long time since I last updated and I can honestly admit I had little to no idea how this fic should be continued. I even considered dropping both this fic and "Stuck" but I figured I may as well try before I decided so. I've spent so long on these two fics. It would be a shame if I just let it go, no?**

**The past few months have been crazy. Well, not really in the grand scheme of things but you get what I mean. The final industry projects, the final examinations and I've applied for the universities here and here's hoping I'll get in, yeah? My current GPA doesn't look promising but I tried and I'll continue trying. As for the past few weeks, I've been trying to get back into writing. This chapter itself took over two weeks. I wrote a little bit and then another bit again and this is it.**

**I hope it won't be too much of a disappointment. I honestly don't know any other way to go about it at the moment, be it the flow of the story, its language or its contents.**

**In any case, this chapter is dedicated to **_Lifeless Heartless_** for her endless support, as well as **_frappyrouge123_**, **_Alana33_** and **_IzXaRose _**for your encouragement and kind words and of course for all you readers who are kind enough to return.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

_Can you save me now?  
\- Not Alone_ by _Red_

* * *

Ace was moving along the vast expanse of the sea, the waves gently lapping at his skiff as he twirled and meandered through the waters when he saw reason to pause. Even as he drifted further from the Moby Dick, he couldn't find it in himself to worry. He had, after all, his logpose with him. As long as he didn't stray too far and the ship didn't move, he would be fine.

He pushed the brim of his hat a little higher with the tip of his finger, a small frown adorning his somewhat childish features, as he squinted into the distance. Something akin to a speck of land broke the skyline and damn did that pull at the fire-user to draw nearer to investigate. He was a child of the sea, and he had lived on land for the better part of his life. But the sky? He vaguely remembered Thatch regaling him with stories of sky islands (and Marco had answered him with a cryptic smile when he asked if these sky islands did exist; Thatch was known for spinning wild tales, after all) but they didn't seem to be on the move to visit them anytime soon.

…if they did exist.

And if they did, who was to say they would make the journey simply to ease his curiosity?

As he drew nearer to the island, one of the first things he noticed was the top of a hill jutting out from the clouds. His heartbeat quickened. The hill – and now he corrected himself in silly giddiness – the mountain fell into a steep drop that was edged with jagged bumps as its grandeur faded behind the crown of a dense forest. Pillars of smoke billowed in a small hit past the side of the mountain and Ace just knew a village was blanketed by the towering piece of rock and stone. With a small frown, he drifted closer before drawing to a complete stop, though careful to keep his fire going less his skiff take it the wrong way and plunged under. That was not a good thought.

Should he brave a trip to the island? Maybe scroll through town before he hurried back?

Ace bit his lip in uncertainty. When he left, the Moby Dick had barely been moving. He had learnt over time that his family never were in any hurry to go anywhere. They just drifted around like the lost seafarers that they were not. Still, being away for even half a day and he could lose track of them. What if they changed course suddenly? Or increased the speed? The teen didn't have any vivre cards to track them down yet. (Marco had told him only those in-charge of missions were given one; and commanders too. They couldn't be giving out the vivre cards like any stack of card games.)

Perhaps a short trip to town wasn't worth it, he finally decided with a long drawn-out sigh. Slender fingers rubbed at his eyes as he unconsciously pulled his lips into a pout, his heart still beating in excitement as he continued eyeing the island.

Well, he supposed he could settle for wandering the seas for the remaining few hours.

Raising the heat of his fire a few notches, the fire-user welcomed the _swoosh_ of the wind against his form. His hand quickly snatched at his hat and pressed it against his head, knowing that, unlike the last time where his family was present (Thatch had been unceremoniously thrown into the water to retrieve his hat), no one was here to pick up after him.

And speaking of picking up after little brothers, Ace idly wondered what Luffy was up to. Probably getting into trouble, he reckoned with a small smile. Probably stealing food, or almost becoming food himself to those stupid crocodiles, or up on the hill with Sabo. Or maybe he's 'training' with that crazy grandfather of theirs. Ace winced at the thought, feeling a little bad that Luffy would have to suffer Garp's wrath for his leave to be a pirate.

Ace lit up. Maybe he should send his brother a little something to cheer him up. A red jacket or something to hold that straw hat together. Goodness knows how many times he had had to retrieve that hat with a bawling brother behind him. Grey eyes drew back to the island.

Perhaps, if he was fast enough..? Surely the Whitebeards wouldn't just change course suddenly?

Ace shook his head violently. _What am I thinking?_ he silently chided himself. He's a D. Go in, buy something, and rush back to the ship.

"Sounds like a plan," he murmured to himself.

He glanced at his logpose, nodded and braced himself for the wind to slap against his skin as his fire flared.

* * *

_Where is the hope in a world so cold?_

* * *

Thatch blinked against the onslaught of sunlight as he stepped into the deck. Already he could feel the cloth on his back cling to his skin and he grimaced at the thought of returning to the kitchens in such a state. A pirate he may be, but he hated feeling filthy – with dirt and grime commonly associated with seafarers - in the kitchens. It was wrong on so many levels.

He rolled his shoulders back, hoping to ease the crick in his neck from having stayed up all night huddled on the floor beside Marco as they threw ideas at each other while promptly shooting it down right after. How did one approach someone and get them to spill their heart's contents? He inwardly rolled his eyes. They had gone beyond the point of caring when, in desperation, one of them – he can't remember which – had seriously considered finding Ace's little brother to come solve the problem.

Like that wouldn't throw Ace into a raging fit.

"Thatch!"

Jozu came running up to him, a bouquet of flowers in hand and a stupid wide grin on his face.

"Uh, sorry, mate." Thatch held up his hands. "I'm straight. But thanks anyway." He grinned tiredly, too weighed down by the pull of sleep.

Jozu spluttered, "W-what?! No!" He raised his hand as if to throw the bouquet at the fourth commander but wisely thought the better of it. Instead, he thrust the gathered flowers, some torn and missing a few petals, at the chef. "What do you think?"

Thatch raised an eyebrow at the gesture. "That's nice?" he offered.

Jozu shook his head in disappointment. "And for all your dishes prettily decorated on a plate, that's all you can offer? You're worse than the others."

"Hey!"

"But I guess it's better than nothing," Jozu continued as if Thatch hadn't spoken. "Haruta tried to knock me out to take me to the infirmary. And Oyaji looked at me as if I just walked for the first time."

Thatch couldn't stop the guffaws at the grimace at that last bit, imagining quite well the expression on their father's face. At the other pirate's glare, he raised his hands in defence, smirking. "Okay, okay. What's this about?"

The glare immediately turned hopeful. "I made it for Ace," he said proudly.

"Oh okay." Thatch double-backed. "Hold it. What?"

"He's just a kid, and I hear kids love bright colours" – at this, Thatch glanced at the array of colours making up the final piece – "So I plucked the really bright ones for him. Think he'll like it?"

There was a pause.

"...Why are you giving our little brother flowers?"

"Oh, right." Jozu scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. "Remember the night I was drunk and accidentally pelted his head with a glass bottle? Yeah, that. I already apologised to him but Izo came around this morning and practically threw a fit the size of the Grand Line, yelling what a, and let me quote, "a…pathetic, good-for-nothing, drunkard of an older brother I am." He shrugged.

Thatch tried to hide a frown. Izo had probably caught wind of the incident through Ace, since Marco had requested the kimono-clad pirate to take over his night shift. That meant Ace had confided in Izo, or at least had allowed the older pirate in on something. Or maybe Izo couldn't resist combing his darn fingers through Ace's admittedly lovely hair and found some residue of the glass bottle. He filed the information for later. "And you thought giving him flowers would make him feel better?" he said in disbelief.

Jozu looked nodded, completely missing the look of consternation. "There's nothing else to give. Ace loves food. But _you_" – he glared at Thatch at this – "feed him. He likes to talk to Oyaji. So Oyaji speaks to him. He likes adventures. Your stupid pranks together and pirate life gives him that. He won't want a new hat. And it's just weird to buy him pants or shoes."

What was left unspoken was the obvious fact that Ace should probably get new pants and shoes. They are practically sizes too large for him, if the many loops of his belt around his waist or the number of socks shoved up his feet are any indication.

"True, that." Warmth pooled somewhere in Thatch's belly at his brother's earnest expression, though he tried to suppress a frown. "The flowers look great. I'm sure it would mean a lot to Ace," he said carefully.

Jozu grinned. "Thank you. I just hope it makes him happier. He looks so down these days."

Thatch only smiled thinly at that. He gestured at the bouquet. "I'm surprised you didn't come to Marco for this."

"Oh, yeah. I was going to, but he seemed like he was upset about something and I decided I like being whole and alive, you know?"

Ah. Marco. They hadn't parted with a good plan yet. "That I understand, brother." He clapped his brother on his shoulder. _That I understand._

"Oh, Jozu?" he called before the other walked away.

The pirate in question turned back. "Yeah?"

"You might want to replace the wilted flowers."

A loud exclamation. "What? Damn it, I didn't see that one. Thanks, Thatch!"

Excusing himself again, Thatch fervently hoped Jozu would keep away from Ace for the time being. For some reason he didn't think Ace would appreciate flowers at the moment. Not when he seemed ready to lash out at the simplest of things- like when Thatch had jokingly prodded him during that meeting.

…

But really? Flowers?

He shook his head. Whitebeard pirates really are in a league of their own.

* * *

_Lost in the rain again, when will it ever end?_

* * *

Ace looked around the town. It's a small one, just like he thought. Relatively small townhouses paved the steep climb up a hill, each home clean and cracked at the corners. The people milled about the square – parents with their children, the occasional couple, kids running about and it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that none of them spared him a second glance.

A small town like this, huddled between mountains and hills and one way of entry (he had to navigate through a narrow pathway that turned and sloped and climbed, and quite suddenly too), it was only expected that they knew little of the world beyond the island.

"And how are you doing, young man?" a stranger with a moustache quite like Vista's, only thicker and less slick, asked as he passed by.

Ace nodded and offered an uncertain smile in return. "Quite alright," he answered quietly as the man tipped his hat in acknowledgement before he went on his merry way. Another thing the fire-user found to be completely and wholly surprising was the friendly nature of the townsfolk. This was about the fifth one to greet him since he entered the town not half an hour ago.

The first time it happened, he had only just breached the first few cobble steps of the town when a man appearing to be in his late sixties clapped him on the shoulder and wished him a good day. His response had been brilliant: he gaped at the man till the latter took pity on him and bid him goodbye.

He inwardly shuddered. Pirates and manners did not go together- though he supposed his lessons with Makino as a child did come in handy from time to time. He remembered the shock on his ship-family's faces when he decided to go all polite on them. Gosh, they thought he was planning some evil, underhanded scheme and had tiptoed around him for days.

The teen navigated his way through the town, looking through the large glass displays. Luffy would probably like anything red, and preferably something that he couldn't tear to pieces within seconds of touching it. Then again, he thought fondly, the little idiot loved anything his brother gave him.

Honestly, what was it about family that made them so dear to one's heart?

He missed his younger brother so badly right then. It was like an ache that seemed to penetrate the deepest recesses of his beating heart, a throb that seeped into his skin and rested on his bones. And if that was not enough, he longed for his shipbrothers- their antics, their stupid jokes and _especially_ a certain blue-eyed pirate's smile.

His now downturned lips thinned. His shoulders slumped heavily.

Just like that, he slowed to a standstill. What was he doing? Away from his island home, away from his shiphome. Ace suddenly didn't know what he was doing in the middle of that horrid town full of pretentious idiots.

As if to mark the beginnings of his despair, it began to rain.

* * *

_Your heart is full of broken dreams; just a fading memory  
And everything's gone, but the pain carries on_

* * *

"There's a storm coming!"

Shouts came in affirmative as pirates ran across the deck, skidding and sliding across the wooden panels, as each fell into step. Raise the sails, secure the goods, keep everyone in check. Dark, ragged clouds threatened the clear blue sky. A streak of lightning and a cackle of thunder later was all it took to send the Whitebeards hastening to secure their ship.

"Damn, this is one fine part of the Grand Line we're in," Thatch muttered. He fiddled with the handkerchief often tied to his neck and loosened it. Looking at the deck, he spotted one of his idiot brothers all tangled up in rope. "Hey!" he hollered, suppressing a sigh. "Someone help that moron!"

"Yes, commander!"

Someone clapped him on the shoulder and he turned to see Izo staring straight ahead.

"Anything I can help you with?" Thatch asked when the other didn't deign to speak.

Izo glanced at him. "I was hoping to catch you for a little talk, but you've been busy since morning."

Thatch would have teased his brother had he missed the annoyed bordering on accusatory tone look on the latter's features. But they've been brothers since what might as well have been forever and he knew better than to shoot himself in the foot.

Instead, he crossed his arms and asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Ace."

Oh. There seemed a disconcerting pattern here, he thought. "What about Ace?" Carefully.

Izo rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb with me," he said shortly. "You happen to let on more than you think." He paused as some of their shipbrothers scuttled past. He grabbed the fourth commander's arm and dragged him to a darkened corner of the hallway leading to the deck.

"I know you were there when Jozu threw a bottle at Ace's head. Ace mentions your name all the time and don't think I didn't notice you hanging onto him like a leech these past few weeks." The pirate then looked expectantly at Thatch.

The chef only sighed. There was no point in denying it. Izo was known for both nosy and observant, though really anyone could have noticed him hanging around Ace more often than not. _Everyone_ had an eye out for Ace for weeks. "What's your point? You want to talk about Ace, but what do you want to talk about? Tea parties and cake?" He ignored the glare the kimono-clad pirate shot him. "Something's up with him, we know. He's all upset and moody, we know. He keeps to himself and barely talks, _we know_. So what do you want to talk about?"

Izo's eyes narrowed. "And who is this '_we'_? Marco?"

Thatch frowned, catching the anger – disgust? – at the first commander's name. At his questioning look, Izo clarified, "Ace told me what happened." He added right after at what must have been his dubious expression, "He apologised, Marco kicked him out of his room, and now we have a moping fire-user on board."

Oh. _Oh._ "Oh."

And speak of the devil and he shall appear. Thatch didn't know whether to thank the high heavens or curse his luck when the first commander appeared then. Judging from Izo's steely glare, he supposed at least he wasn't the recipient of that.

"Marco! Nice of you to join us."

A shadow fell over Marco's features as he slowed at the dark look he received. Thatch was having none of it. He leaned over, clutched the front of that stupid purple jacket (he did think the colour was hideous, but the man wouldn't hear of it) and tugged him closer.

"What's going on?" Marco said carefully. His blue eyes glanced between the two of them.

Thatch jumped in before Izo had a chance to speak. "Izo's worried about Ace. He knows about your moment of temporary insanity and likely wants to punch you in the face. Ergo we have a problem. So" - he turned to the kimono-clad pirate with a raised eyebrow – "if you want to punch our dear first commander or anything of similar nature, now would be a great time to get it over and done with."

Marco eyed Izo warily, though the latter didn't make a move.

"And if it helps, I've already hit him twice. You know what they say. Third time's the charm," Thatch added.

Izo scowled. "Oh shut it, you." Then, as if he had just processed it, he said incredulously, "You hit Marco?"

A nod.

"And you _let_ him hit you?"

To his credit, Marco's features remained inscrutable, except for the slight twitch on his forehead. "I deserve it," he answered, his voice quiet.

Izo's lips thinned before he looked away. He huffed. "Don't think that makes it better."

Thatch took one look at them – Izo was now glaring at something past the blonde's shoulder, his arms crossed while Marco seemed content to wait out the palpable tension between them. A small smile curled his lips in what may have been pride. He wouldn't have been surprised if Izo had thrown Marco across the deck and into the sea.

"Now that's part over, let's get to business."

* * *

_The arms of relief seems so out of reach_

* * *

Ace scowled his very best scowl at the bartender.

The bartender, a brunette in his late thirties, shrugged. "You do look awful. Just stating facts, young man."

The teen only glared half-heartedly at the man. He muttered under his breath. He pulled the alcoholic beverage to his lips and chugged half of it down before slamming it on the counter, wincing at the bitter taste in his mouth. "Why people drink this I swear I don't know."

The bartender took another look at him and snorted. "Why are you drinking then?" He gave the mug in his hand another swipe with that ugly brown cloth, set it down on the row of shelves behind him and turned back to Ace. "Name's Henry."

Ace stared at proffered hand in surprise. He glanced at the bar- Henry's smirk and back to the waiting hand. Huh. He grasped the hand and shook it. "Ace," he muttered.

"Portgas D. Ace, I know."

Ace looked up again, this time startled. Was it simply him or was he just letting down his guard too much? Some of the alarm he felt must have shown as Henry frowned. The brunette leaned forward on the crook of his elbows, perched on the very edges of the counter, and jerked his head at something at the far wall at the back of the bar.

The fire-user craned his neck and nodded in understanding. Posters – wanted posters – lined the wall in neat displays, quite unlike most establishments where the staff would either throw out all such posters (any reminder of the common criminals at sea or land scared half the civilisation, it seemed; it reminded the teen something unpleasant of Goa Kingdom too) or just threw them into a dingy corner where no one would care to look.

"Should I be worried?" he asked wryly.

"No reason to be." Henry shrugged again. "The boss likes to put them on display. It's like how a fan would put up posters of their favourite celebrity up on their bedroom wall. Not that you aren't famous enough without that as a reminder."

"He used to be a pirate?"

"Nah. He's just a fan. Wanted to be one when he was young, and perhaps he still does. But life just never worked out that way for him." Henry gestured to the posters again. "Guess this is his way of honouring the way of life he never got to live."

"Oh." Ace glanced at the display again, feeling a strange sense of respect for the boss. He understood the calling of the sea, felt it in his very bones since he was a child. Be it a by-product of his blood or simply his desire to be free, he couldn't deny that the seas was his home. Of course, Dawn Island and that broken down house at the top of the hill and the forest would always hold a special place in his heart, but that was his childhood.

He didn't think he could live out his days there though.

The man – Henry – broke his train of thoughts again.

"So what brings a Whitebeard pirate to our humble establishment, Firefist Ace?"

Ace hummed under his breath. "No reason."

"Not at all?"

"Not at all," he repeated.

"Okay," Ace conceded at the silence that followed. "I'm waiting out the rain."

"Ah. I hear devil fruit users don't like the rain."

"I like the rain. I just don't feel like getting out in this kind of weather. Too intense for my liking." As if to prove the teen's point, a low rumble of thunder shook the bar.

"Point," Henry said as he picked up another mug to wipe. "A bad weather to be on the seas. And I suppose your crew isn't here with you?"

Ace grinned lazily. "Trying to pick me off when I'm alone so my family won't know to come after you?" He emptied the mug of its contents and gestured for a refill. The bartender obliged.

"Family, huh?" The brunette pushed the drink towards the fire-user.

"Yeah?"

"You look to them as family?" Henry repeated.

Ace nodded, feeling the beginnings of wooziness and noted with slight amusement that the bar wasn't as clear as it was moments - or was it hours? – ago. "Yeap." He enunciated the word with a loud 'pop'. "Brothers in all but blood!" He raised the mug, as if cheering to a non-existent entity, before chugging the whole lot down in one go.

"Another one!"

Henry frowned, though he re-filled it anyway. He glanced at something behind Ace's shoulder. "You shouldn't drink so much," he whispered into the teen's ear. "I know for a fact you are not only alone, but alone on this island. A drunk and wanted pirate with the size of your bounty will do you no good."

Ace snorted. He shook his head, trying to will away the strange lightness in his head. He had never truly been drunk before. "I might not be in my best state but, still could burn this whole place down."

"That, I do not doubt," the other man said dryly. "And possibly pass out right after."

A streak of anger flitted through the fire-user and he shot to his feet. "Are you saying I can't take care of myself? That's a load of bull, you get me?!" he shouted.

To the brunette's credit, only the slight widening of his eyes hinted at any surprise he felt. He reached out and forced the teen back to his seat, only to pull back when the latter glared at him. He held up his hands in a placating manner. "You started it."

For some reason, the use of such a childish form of defence had Ace slumping in his seat and his head in his hands. He flushed. "...sorry," he offered lamely.

"Ahmmm."

Ace raised his head to glare at him. "I said I was- oh."

Henry was smiling. It wasn't the frightened into compliance sort of smile, but the exasperated yet knowing smile that had Ace looking down on his hands in shame. It was the kind of smile Marco had, whenever he did something incredibly stupid.

"You've done this before, huh?" he asked, his voice small.

"I'm a bartender," Henry said, as if that answered it at all. Ace supposed it did. The brunette slid a glass of iced water towards him. "Take this, might clear your head a little."

They shared a few banters, pausing occasionally for the older man to serve the other customers, and Ace felt oddly relieved to be speaking to this stranger who was right on his way to becoming a friend. It was refreshing to be spoken to as a person and not as…someone who'd blow their top over every tiny thing.

Although, he thought with a grimace as Henry was called away again, he did shout at the poor man more times than he could count from his random bursts of anger. He attributed it to the alcohol. Yes, alcohol did strange things to one's mind.

His gaze rested on the brunette.

The bartender was something between a playful Thatch, but with Marco's serious edge and a little of Izo's knowing smirks. He had the starting of grey flecks in his hair, though for the life of him Ace couldn't comprehend why. Was a bartender's life that stressful, or was it simply in his genes? He supposed if he had to listen to the daily woes of customers every day he would probably lose it too. And much earlier. He couldn't even handle his crap, much less another's.

"So, the rain's not letting up anytime soon," Henry said as he came back.

Ace got the feeling the man was trying to tell him something but that could be the alcohol talking. "Ahuh?"

The brunette rolled his eyes, as if giving up all attempt on subtlety. "The bar's going to close. In half hour, in fact."

_Oh_. "Oh."

"You shouldn't head to the waters just yet. It's dangerous in this sort of weather."

"I know."

"You have a place to go before then?"

"Coulda find one." Ace raised his shoulders and let them fall, murmuring under his breath "_Pirates of the seas, of the seas, oceans blue...Pirates of-pirates of the oceans blue-_"

There was a momentary silence. "You could stay at my place."

Ace looked up, the blank expression morphing into surprise. "What?" He thought about it again and asked the more important question, "_Why_?"

Henry narrowed his gaze at the teen, and for some reason Ace felt like shrinking, unable to help but feel chastised by the scolding look he could feel directed at him. "You're drunk, Firefist," he said quietly. "If you have yet to notice, the bar is full of pirates who have been quite occupied in observing your not so silent theatrics for the past few hours. I've only barely managed to direct their attention away by feeding you more food than alcohol." He sported a wry smile. "Don't put my efforts to waste by passing out there and getting yourself killed."

Ace wondered for a moment if he should argue that he was most definitely not drunk. Sure he felt a little lightheaded and the room did seem to sway around him and perhaps Henry was beginning to look like 'Henrys'. It was nothing he couldn't handle. He pushed down the stirrings of anger that he couldn't handle himself. _Just like Marco_, a stupid voice sang in his head. _Just like the way he ordered your silence on your own mission._

He shook his head violently. Okay, he conceded. Perhaps he was a _little_ drunk.

"Well?"

Ace glanced at the man and, less than a moment of thought later, he nodded slowly. "Thank you."

He then promptly cursed his ever curious nature then as Henry smiled at him and answered the unspoken question. "Because I like talking to you." He began to keep the mugs onto the designated shelf. "We'll leave in ten minutes. Before the other pirates start to leave."

* * *

_But I, I am here  
I am with you  
I will carry you through it all_

* * *

"Wait, he told you all that?!"

Thatch was staring at Izo in wide-eyed wonder. A small smile lit up his face and, for a moment, Marco wondered if the pirate was stupid enough to try hug Izo in that moment of surprise. The kimono-clad pirate held up a hand and pushed against the fourth commander's chest before he could even take a step closer.

"No, I'm kidding," Izo said flatly. "So we can just waste our precious time here making plans over situations that do not exist."

That edge of sarcasm was lost, though, if Thatch's grin was any indication.

Confusion flitted through Marco even as his two brothers went back and forth in heated discussion. Late nights, sudden bouts of insomnia? It wasn't so surprising Ace had suffered the detriments of lacking a good night's sleep; now he understood the large – and rather notable too – dark circles beneath the teen's eyes. He rubbed the bridge of his thumb and forefinger against his chin thoughtfully. Izo had also mentioned that these 'nights' had been a source of trouble for Ace, and if he was right, these problems had occurred before his fallout with the fire-user. There was something else at play. But what could possibly drive their youngest brother into a state of unhealthy sleeping habits so suddenly?

Post-traumatic stress? Maybe the events during his attempts on Oyaji's life caught up with him? Or perhaps his body suddenly tried to settle down on the more calm (or less chaotic, he corrected himself) life as a Whitebeard pirate and then couldn't truly adapt without needing to watch his every move anymore?

"But that's great, isn't it?" Thatch was saying (or arguing). "We can take it up with Oyaji since he should know better than we do."

Izo shook his head. "We can't. I promised Ace I wouldn't go to Oyaji unless we really need to." When Thatch looked about to argue, he snapped, "A promise is a promise."

"The hell are we supposed to do? Say, 'Hey Ace. Heard you got a problem sleeping. Want some sake with that?'"

"No, you moron. I'm saying the situation is as delicate as it is. You should have seen him that-"

Thatch interrupted, his lighthearted tone all but disappearing, "Yes, I _have_ seen him like that. I _know_ how serious it is. That's why we need to go to Oyaji to sort it out."

"And I told you Ace wouldn't want that!"

"And maybe he doesn't know what's best for him!"

A hint of red flushed across Izo's bare neck, a sure sign of a dam about to break loose. "Oh, and you do?" he said, his tone sickly sweet. For a moment, the first commander couldn't help but feel lucky they were family. As sure as he was of his own skills, Izo was a bad enemy to have.

Then again, Marco thought tiredly, Thatch wasn't a commander for nothing.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Just cause he came crying to you once doesn't give you the right to make decisions for him."

Izo's dark eyes widened before narrowing, his lips pulled back in a snarl. "Came crying?" he repeated. "_How dare you_, you piece of-"

Marco's stern voice cut them in their tracks. "That's enough. Either both of you work together or lay off the whole subject."

Izo rounded on him. "Oh that's nice, Marco. What's your plan?" he said derisively. "Maybe kick him out of the ship this time? Or perhaps another round of pretending he doesn't exist?"

Thatch looked affronted. "Hey! That's uncalled for-"

Izo opened his mouth but the phoenix beat him to it, knowing full well the snarky remark just on the tip of the pirate's tongue. He affected a cold demeanour. "I have made my mistakes, Izo," he said quietly. "I caused our brother harm, whether in the physical sense or not, and nothing I say or do now will right my wrong until Ace gives the green light to let me off. I understand that and I will live with that. But I am also the first commander of this ship, and the welfare of our brothers, including and _especially _Ace's, is part of my responsibility. Not a moment in my life will I ever forget or disregard that again. And contrary to what you may think," - at this, he turned his unflinching gaze at Izo – "the first step would be to claim my duty as first commander and _fix_ the matter at hand."

He took a step forward into the already closed up space, bringing themselves uncomfortably close. To their credit, neither Izo nor Thatch moved, though their eyes remained fixed on him.

"I will not take a step back and play the part of guilt-ridden fool anymore. Not until everything is sorted out. Do you understand me?"

There was a moment of tense silence before two muttered "Yes" answered him.

Marco dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Now, I agree with Izo. We shouldn't approach Oyaji until absolutely necessary." He held up a hand when Thatch gave out an indignant squawk. "From what we understand, Ace's state of mind is brittle at best. He snaps at the slightest thing, gets upset at the strangest of things, he's tired, underfed and he avoids company like the plague. If he extracted a promise from Izo and we break it for whatever reason, he wouldn't stop to try and understand. If he did, he wouldn't have insisted otherwise."

Thatch looked helpless. "Oyaji deserves to know, doesn't he? What if it's something serious or some pirate cursed him with some devil fruit power? We wouldn't know."

Marco rubbed his temples but shook his head slowly. "You're right. He deserves to know. But what is best for Ace right now? He can't even tell us the truth, and whatever he told Izo, he did in the midst of what can only be termed a breakdown. How would he face Oyaji if Oyaji knew? You know how prideful he is."

Izo fidgeted in uncertainty. "We don't have to tell him Oyaji knows?"

"And live your entire life knowing you broke the one promise he asked you to make," Marco replied.

"If it's for the best-"

"He'd only hate you more later on. You know this." Of course Izo knew this. Marco wasn't the only one who noticed the subtle way Ace held himself during those first months on the ship. True, he became less guarded after his initiation as a Whitebeard, but the kid didn't trust people. Not that that was truly a bad thing. Pirates were untrustworthy. To pick a crew as family was akin to baring one's back open to attacks. Heck, the kid took months to accept that they weren't going to toss him into the nearest dungeons or over the side of the ship should he let down his guard.

Izo relented and, judging from the resigned look on the chef's face, Marco knew he too had given in.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, a streak of lightning lit up the ever darkening hallway, followed by an almost pain-inducing rumble of thunder. The Moby Dick rocked beneath their feet, sending the hanging lamps to tilt and clang against the wooden panels. Shouts turned up across the deck.

"Hurry up! The storm's getting worse!"

"You don't say!" came the snarky response.

"How about shutting up and getting to work, you fools!"

The three commanders glanced at one another, each sporting a slightly sheepish look, before getting on deck. If anything, it seemed as if the day had been chased into the night. Towering black clouds left little light glinting through the cracks. Already rain was pelting onto the seas, sending the masses of water into waves that had the beginnings of vicious ferocity that unnerved even them.

"Well, looks like we were a little caught up to pay attention, huh," Thatch muttered under his breath.

Izo shot him a dirty look before hurrying after his division, but not before he mouthed "later" to both of them.

Marco ignored them. Instead, he scanned the ship and, when he didn't catch sight of the object of his worry, he transformed into his phoenix form, gliding above and around the ship. He ignored Thatch's calls for him to come back, knowing he was considerably weaker when in rain. The water droplets pulled at his fire and drained at his strength. However, this was faster.

Unable to find Ace, he gave a disappointed trill before landing on his feet beside his disgruntled friend.

"Ace was missing during that storm a few weeks back," he explained before Thatch could chastise him. "I'm going to check his room."

Understanding crossed the chef's features and he nodded. "I'll come with you."

They made their way through the now darkened hallway. Some of the lights had been extinguished and Marco was forced to rely on his fire to brighten the enclosed space. The shadows formed a sort of solemn dance around them, cutting through corners as the dim light wavered as the two pirates brushed past. Some of their brothers ran by, often getting a yelled "Watch the kitchens! The knives!" or "Be careful! It's a bad storm coming!" from Thatch.

Just as they rounded a corner that would grant them entry to the hallway that led down to Ace's room, Jozu ran into them. Unlike their other shipbrothers though, he stopped short.

"Jozu," Marco said, his voice loud in the near empty corridor. He glanced down the passage Jozu had come from. This wasn't the commanders' floor. "Did you need anything?"

For some reason, Jozu looked upset. "The storm was getting worse. Thought I'd leave the flowers with Ace in case it got hit by the weather or the others." He jerked his head towards the direction of the deck. "But-"

Marco frowned. "Flowers?"

"He accidentally threw a bottle at Ace's head last night," Thatch interjected, though he hastily added at the phoenix's alarmed expression, "He was drunk. He wanted to apologise by giving Ace some flowers he picked around the ship."

Jozu scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah. I left it on his bed though." He sighed in disappointment. "I was hoping to give it to him in person but should have known, though. Considering the storm and-"

Again Marco interrupted him. "Wait. He's not in his room?"

"I just said he isn't there."

Marco rushed past the now affronted pirate to Ace's quarters, Thatch hot on his heels. He skidded to a halt just before the room and barged inside. Thatch must have switched on the lights, for the room was suddenly bathed in a startling glare that almost made him wince.

The first thing he noticed was how clean the room was. The bed was made, the vivid colours of the bouquet a sharp contrast against the pale sheets of the fire-user's blankets. The mirror was gone, the floors were swept and…

Marco watched in silence, almost in a daze, as Thatch rushed forward, pulling apart drawers and the wardrobe. He threw the pillows off the mattress and yanked the threadbare covers away, scattering the flowers across the wooden flooring. He went as far as to peek under the bed.

Jozu appeared behind them. "What's going on?"

Thatch stood up slowly then, having exhausted searching all possible areas of the room. He ran his fingers through his carefully sculpted hair.

Jozu stepped into the room, eyeing the strewn petals in silence. He glanced between the two commanders. "What's going on?" he repeated.

Then, Thatch confirmed Marco's growing fears, his voice strained with disbelief.

"His things are gone."

…

_And so is he._

* * *

_Looking for a distant light  
Someone who could save a life  
Living in fear, that no one will hear your cries_

_Can you save me now?_

* * *

**I at least hoped the chapter was passable. Please leave a review if you so could. They do motivate me so.**

**Till next time!**


	10. Misunderstandings

**Hey everyone!**

**Here's the next chapter for Bleeding through the Seams! (Well, duh, considering you're here.)**

**First and foremost, thank you for the reviews, for the favourites and follows. You guys are amazing. I've said it before and I shall say it again.**

**This chapter is slightly longer than usual, but it has quite a few scenes with my OC (Henry) so I hope that's fine with all of you. (I don't particularly like OCs myself.) But, from next chapter onwards, there shouldn't be anymore.**

**Special dedication to **_Lifeless Heartless_ **(you'll hear from me soon!) and to all of you too because your reviews made me happy.**

**Also, just a note, I have received a few reviews where I've been asked if I had studied psychology or whatnot. I must reiterate that, no, I have not studied psychology. This reminds me that I have forgotten to put up the warnings that I had for most of the chapters. So here it is.  
**

****WARNING:  
********Please read this before you go on to the story. I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. If I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.****

**SECOND WARNING:  
Yes, this fic is about a depressed Ace. I am NOT, by any means, advocating that his actions are correct or advisable. If you are depressed and I can help in any way, I'm here. BUT please do _NOT _take anything from this fic as a piece of advice. Ace is behaving the way he is because he is depressed. Marco, Thatch, Izo and all the rest because they are clueless on how to handle it. Please be forewarned that I am no expert on the subject. **

**And, third warning:  
This chapter may contain sexual references between two people of the same gender. It's nothing horrific. Just a terrible misunderstanding.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.**

* * *

_I'll find you somewhere  
I'll keep on trying until my dying day  
\- Somewhere _by _Within Temptation_

* * *

The silence was broken by Thatch marching resolutely towards the door. His blue eyes still frozen on the scattered remains of the flowers and bedsheets, Marco's arm snapped up and grabbed at the fourth commander's arm before he could get past.

Thatch spared him a cold stare. "We need to tell Oyaji."

"No." Marco's grip on the man's arm tightened. "No," he repeated.

"Can _someone_," Jozu interjected loudly, "tell me what the hell is going on?"

With a growl, Thatch rounded on his shipbrother, appearing unconcerned with the other's almost bewildered look. "_Shut your mouth_," he snapped. "None of us have the time for this!"

At this, Marco dragged his gaze away from the mess to look at one of his closest, if not best, friends. Thatch's hands were balled into fists, shaky, and his shoulders rigid and back straight. And his eyes, dark and shadowed, were aflame with a fury the phoenix had not seen in a long time. Beside him, Jozu looked stunned.

Marco touched the fourth commander's shoulder with his free hand, clasping it gently, though this was in stark contrast with the fierceness that burned in his cerulean eyes as he held the other's gaze. When Thatch remained quiet, he spoke to Jozu: "Jozu, unless the ship is sinking, get Izo here. Now." He felt the muscles beneath his hands tremble. "Don't let anyone know and don't do anything until I get back to you."

Jozu's lips thinned, his eyebrows pulling into a frown. He took a step forward, hesitant. "Marco-"

The said pirate interrupted – harshly, "That's an order."

The broad-shouldered man's eyes hardened. "I will have my answers when this is over." Without another word, he turned and left the two pirates in the fire-user's quarters.

The door slammed.

At the ensuing silence, Marco returned his full attention back to his remaining brother, whose frame was breaking out into stronger shudders, his gaze wide-eyed and focused on something on the floor. Brief concern flitted through the older man but he shoved it away, already feeling the beginnings of a headache pounding in his head. Ace was gone. He barely stopped his own breath from hitching. His youngest brother had left them.

"I…" Thatch suddenly began. He clenched his teeth.

"Thatch. You need to calm down."

Dark eyes immediately flared in anger. Strong arms knocked his grip on the fourth commander off and a hand shoved him two steps back. Marco fell silent, inwardly stunned at the erratic display of self-righteous ire, by Thatch no less. His brother rarely lost control like this. No, he thought. He had expected, of all people, Thatch to be the one to be most composed and optimistic. Apart from himself, though he was known for his general outward disinterest.

"He's fucking gone, Marco!" Thatch was shouting.

"Thatch-"

The pompadour-haired man pointed at the dying torn flowers violently. "How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?!"

"By figuring out how to get him back," Marco said flatly. He levelled cold, blue eyes on his friend. "You're not doing anyone – or Ace, for that matter – any favours by behaving like a common tramp."

There was an inhaled breath and the phoenix braced himself for another outburst (coming from Thatch, that was huge). True to his fears, the other pirate flushed, a bright crimson shooting up his neck and painting his features an angry red. His hand shot out and slammed into the wooden panel where the mirror should have been.

Swearing under his breath, the chef pulled his fist back and aimed for the same spot again, muttering under his breath. He breathed heavily.

Marco eyed him carefully and, when the other fell silent, he came forward and began to pry the bruised knuckles from the dented surface. His thumb brushed against the harsh line of skin.

"Are you calm now?"

Thatch answered after a moment, "Yeah." He pulled away from the blonde's touch. "Sorry you had to see that." He walked towards the lone bed and fell on it, the mattress giving under his weight.

Marco shrugged and joined him. "It's nothing I've never seen before. I just hadn't expected to see it today."

The chef snorted. "Like how you didn't expect our littlest brother to take off like that?" He gestured to the room.

Marco raised an eyebrow at the term 'littlest'. He remembered Thatch happily adding the admittedly childish term to Ace's status on the ship, even before the teen had accepted his position as a member of the Whitebeards.

"_Hey! There's our littlest brother!"_

"_Ace! ACE! Come on, don't be shy. Don't you know being the littlest has its privileges?"_

"_Ah, the littlest one has come. Missed us, Ace?"_

"_OW! What was that for? You are so lucky you're the littlest. I wouldn't have-ow ow OW!"_

"_But he _is_ the littlest!"_

Oh the man had gotten on Ace's nerves. A small smile curled at the corners of his lips at the memory of Ace turning a scarlet red whenever he was deemed as the 'littlest'. The kid hated being treated like a child. Thatch had always ended up with his butt soundly kicked, often with the help of several commanders the teen had managed to rope in in his quest to teach the 'bastard a right lesson'. Well, Thatch hadn't been lying. There were indeed perks to being the youngest in the largest crew of pirates.

"Lucky for us your outbursts are short and swift," Marco said dryly. He elbowed the pirate next to him, unable to stop the small smirk.

Thatch glared at him but didn't return the nudge.

"So what was that about?"

"What?"

Marco raised an eyebrow and jerked his head towards the abused wall. "I understand that you're upset, but not enough to take it out on your brothers or even on inanimate objects."

Thatch exhaled noisily. His head turned away and Marco thought he could spot a hint of red dotting the other's cheeks.

The chef finally said softly, "I just…do you know what happened when I saw him last, Marco?" He didn't wait for a response. "Last I saw him Jozu had decked his head with a glass bottle."

_"It was just a group of drunk idiots who weren't thinking, Ace. It's not a big deal."_

_A flash of hurt and wounded pride. "I know, Thatch. Am I child to you?" The fire-user turned away. "If there's nothing else, I have duties to attend to."_

The fourth commander sighed and turned a look of reproach on the blonde. "What if that was the turning point?" he asked, as if in desperation. "He had a breakdown right after with Izo and then left us. I should have stopped the damn glass. Or went after him when he walked away. Damn it!" The same anger that lit up his eyes earlier on burned anew. His fists clenched on the fabric of his pants. "I should never have let him walk away."

Marco blinked. So that was it. Anger with himself. Of all the stupid things, Thatch thought he was at fault? Or maybe, a sinister part of him whispered, all of them had contributed to driving their brother away. He sighed. "You're being stupid."

Thatch scoffed and shrugged. "You said we shouldn't go to Oyaji," he reminded.

Marco nodded, not at all put off by the change in subject. There was nothing else to be said. "As the first commander, my head is telling me we should go straight to Oyaji. One of our brothers have left and no one knows why. He could have been kidnapped, could have fallen off the ship and drowned, or could have been against us from the very beginning."

Thatch looked insulted but kept quiet at the phoenix's quelling glare.

Marco paused, almost hesitant, but ploughed on after another glance at the clutter at his feet. "As a...brother, my instinct is ordering me to keep it from Oyaji. Oyaji will throw a fit and heaven knows how many years of cleaning duty he'd assign us with, but remember what Izo said? What we had discussed?" His forehead creased. "For some reason, Ace is upset. With me, with whomever… He's no longer happy with his life here. That's the only reason he'd leave."

"To be unhappy enough that he had to go without even telling us?"

_Without telling us goodbye?_

Marco heard the unspoken words anyway. "Perhaps," he reluctantly admitted. "Even so, he's gone now. With the state of his mind, I'm afraid he might…not want to come back." He heard a breath hitch. "Whatever it is, I'm not going to risk the slightest chance of pushing him further away. We need to pull him back, not prove to him that we aren't worth it.

"Whatever is happening, we have to get to the bottom of this," Marco went on fiercely, a fire that had nothing to do with his devil fruit ability flaring through his being. He locked his gaze with Thatch's. "We are going to go after him, Thatch. We are going to find him, wherever he is, and we are going to find out what the _fuck_ is going through that teenage-addled brain of his. And when we're saddled with whatever punishment Oyaji deems fit, that brat is going to be there, complaining for all it's worth. Do you get me?"

"And…" Thatch trailed off. "If he doesn't want to return?"

Marco closed his eyes. "He's marked, Thatch," he said quietly.

"I guess it's good I know his size, huh? Considering I had been the one to dry out his clothes all the time," Thatch mumbles into his hands. Shaking himself out of it, the chef got to his feet and moved to the door. "I'll go get a few clean pairs, you know," – he looked away – "just in case."

"Get one of maps too. It's in my room, first drawer to the right on my side table. I need to be here when Izo arrives."

"Yeah, got it."

* * *

_Lost in the darkness  
Hoping for a sign  
Instead, there is only silence  
Can't you hear my screams?_

* * *

To say he had a headache was a huge understatement.

Ace stumbled over himself, silently bemoaning his stupid choice to get drunk, of all things, when he was alone- oh wait, he wasn't alone. He was with Henry, he thought. Yet, he could have been alone for all the swirling colours around him. It felt as if a tiny demon was treating the insides of his head like its personal playground, if the pounding in his head was any indication. Wasn't the whole drink-induced sickness supposed to come in the morning?

"_Ace?"_

"Huh?" Ace muttered under his breath even as he whirled around to catch whoever had called out his name, though only succeeding at falling on his butt. His grey eyes shifted wildly about him. _There's no one there._

"_Ace. You shouldn't drink so much."_

The same grey eyes widened a fraction. That was…_his_ voice. He squinted into the darkness, the whites, blacks and greys blending together into a mess of near monochromatic colours. He shook his head and immediately regretted it. His stomach churned and he only barely made it to the foot of the building next to him as he emptied the contents of his stomach. How – when – had he gotten _this _drunk?

"_You're lightweight. You know that, we know that."_

Great. Now he was hearing voices. Something cold ruffled at his hair and he froze.

"_So don't get drunk, Ace. _Especially_ if we aren't there with you."_

Ace's lips began to tremble. A streak of longing reared up inside him and he clutched at his head, silently rocking back and forth. A desperation quite unlike his usual bouts of insane mood swings tugged at his heart and the teen felt almost the instinct to cry out for something, anything, to make things right again.

There were light footsteps behind him and a part of his brain warned him of someone - or more – guffawing from behind him but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was pathetic. Yes, he was. Which pirate were brought down to their knees in a fit of despair after a few measly drinks? What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Hey! Get away from him!" A gun rang out and the footsteps scattered, left one that was approaching him from his left.

A hand touched his shoulder and he would have gone up in flames had he not heard the exasperated, yet soothing, voice of the limb's owner.

"Are you okay, Fire Fist?" Henry peered at him through his bangs. "We should get going, before the more rowdy of pirates leave."

Ace watched quietly as the bartender holstered his gun back into a hidden pocket. He shot the man a questioning look. Henry shrugged.

"The town may be isolated from the world, but for some reason, pirates love to come here. It's good to be prepared." He pinned the fire-user with a hard look, appraising the latter's curled up form on the ground. He held out a hand and Ace took it, only to slump against the taller man, his breath hot and heavy. He felt the brunette tense.

The bartender sighed. "I did warn you not to drink so much." Adjusting his grip on the wasted pirate, he pulled them in the direction of his home, making sure to keep the teen as awake as much as he could. By the time they entered the house in what seemed like an eternity later, Ace was close to passing out.

Was this what it felt like to be drunk? Why did people enjoy it so damn much? Ace let out a giggle and he gasped, horrified at himself. Men do not giggle! Then again, his lovely grandfather had the scary tendency to giggle. Maybe he was drunk when he did..? No, no. His grandfather was crazy. It was as simple as that. The world suddenly tilted beneath him as strong hands pushed him onto his back. He tried to swipe the hands away.

"G'way…" he grumbled, blinking at the strange shadow above him. He heard a soft chuckle before the same hands gently thumbed across his shoulders to press him against the mattress. He belatedly thought that it was softer than his was back at the Moby Dick.

The warm touch left and he feebly protested, having appreciated the small dotted areas of heat, while his back felt so cold. He shivered when he felt someone removing his combat boots. He tried to kick the idiot away – he could take off his own damn boots, but why did he have to take them off in the first place? – but a slap to his knees and a harsh reprimand stopped his struggles. A _thump_ later and he absent-mindedly wondered if the brunette had thrown it out the window. He frowned. It would get wet if it rained.

"Hen-ry?" he mumbled when there was nothing for a while.

A finger suddenly pressed against his lips and he quieted. Unfamiliar fingers carded through his hair then and Ace managed to catch a hint of dark eyes and a soft smile. He gasped as his hair was yanked back roughly.

"Hush now, Ace. It's time to sleep."

* * *

_Wherever you are, I won't stop searching  
Whatever it takes, I need to know_

* * *

Thatch came back to the room to find Marco and Izo arguing loudly in Ace's quarters, only falling silent when he stepped into the room.

"A problem?"

Izo scowled at him and pointed at the blonde. "He says we aren't to go to Oyaji. Tell him he's wrong," he demanded.

For his part, Marco only looked weary. "I told you," he said, voice strained, "that I've gone through this with Thatch. We're going after the brat. Your only choice is to help us or stay out of it."

Izo glowered at him, not budging an inch. "This isn't about you, Marco! You don't have the right to go about making decisions like that!"

"I'm the first commander."

"Your authority doesn't precede Oyaji's!"

Thatch clicked his tongue. Izo had a point there.

Marco didn't miss a beat. "I don't go through everything with Oyaji."

"_Only_ if the issue is something we can sweep under our feet!" Izo shouted. "Or does Ace's disappearance mean nothing to you?"

Marco narrowed his eyes. He snapped, "You can think that way if you want, Izo. But this is my decision and I'm not changing it."

"And what," the kimono-clad pirate said quietly, "makes you think I won't go to Oyaji anyway?"

At this, Thatch decided enough was enough. He glanced at the clock; they were losing enough time as it was. By Jozu's estimation, Ace must have left by the morning. It was by no means a great feat hunting someone down. If they wanted, they could have their intelligence teams track Ace's position within less than an hour but that would mean giving away the knowledge that Ace had run away.

"Go ahead and report it to Oyaji then," Thatch said from his position at the door. "Do it or not, Marco and I are still doing this."

Marco looked surprised and Izo simply looked torn between spluttering and tearing at his hair in frustration.

"You agree with him?" he asked in disbelief.

Thatch shrugged. "He's not first commander for nothing. Just know that, whatever Oyaji decides to do, if it clashes or interferes with our plans, we won't be the ones answering for it." At Izo's surprised and hurt look, the chef softened. "This is Ace, Izo," he said, unwavering, as if that name was reason enough.

Izo gritted his teeth and hung his head, and both Thatch and Marco knew they had made peace with him for the moment.

Marco clasped him on the back as a silent 'thank you' before he turned to the fourth commander. "You have the map?"

Thatch nodded. "I know where he is. We only passed by one island the whole of today and yesterday. Before and beyond that, there's no other nearby land for him to get to before running out of food." He dumped the bag on the bed and rolled out the map. "Besides, I doubt he's too out of it to risk staying on the waters for too long. Goodness knows how the weather is like here."

He only hoped they could get back in time.

* * *

_Living in agony cause I just do not know_

* * *

In the end, it was decided that only Marco and Thatch would head over to the island. Izo would remain on the Moby Dick to stave off any questions pertaining to the whereabouts of two of their commanders and youngest brother.

The weather was still pretty bad for them to take out a small boat, if the six going on ten metre waves were any indication. Besides which, they would have to seek permission from their father to take a boat out. Even if they were to pretend they had to head to town for something, both pirates knew their father and captain would never let them go while the storm was still going strong. Whitebeard was also smart enough to immediately catch on to the hidden purpose of their request; which seasoned seafarer would risk going to town for something as measly as food supply when they had enough stock on deck?

Thatch had packed clothes, some beri and a map of the island and surrounding waters into a small haversack. By unspoken agreement, he was allowed to use a rope to tie one end to his right wrist and the other to Marco's leg in the off chance they fell into the water. It wouldn't do to be unable to save his older brother because the rough waters tore them apart, after all.

"You ready?"

He looked up to see Marco staring at him. He smirked. "No need to look so grim, commander."

Marco rolled his eyes. Both of them were on the crow's nest to the back of the ship. The sky was tar-black, the clouds streaking across the sky. There was a shrieking, almost keening, sound that grated at their eyes as the wind slapped at their faces. They hadn't been out for longer than two minutes and already they were both soaked to the skin. Marco watched in concern as Thatch stumbled to grip at the sides of the crow's nest, his frame shivering slightly.

He glanced beneath them. Their men were running about, hollering commands and acknowledged responses. To the side, he froze as Namur hurled Haruta onto the deck before disappearing beneath the waves again. _Shit. The storm's that bad._

"They can handle it." He turned back to Thatch, who was now mirroring his own grave expression.

Marco breathed in and let it out. "You're right."

Transforming into the form of his phoenix, he bared his back for Thatch to hop on, feeling the man's fingers dig into his back as the pirate made himself comfortable. It was going to be a long journey, perhaps a few hours, considering they had moved from their morning position and even then they had been quite a fair bit of distance away from the island.

Two pats on his head and he took off, hoping no one would take notice. For a moment, his form sank, jerking him into flapping his wings harder as he strove to get used to the weight on his back. Marco was no weakling, but heck if he was used to flying on his own. A few strokes later and he was gliding over the sea.

_Ace._

He hoped- no, knew his family on the Moby Dick would be okay. They were the Whitebeards, after all. They were not so weak they couldn't take on a mere storm.

_You are in so much trouble when I'm done with you._

* * *

_But one thing's for sure  
You're always in my heart_

* * *

_For some reason, he knew he couldn't be seen._

_He was standing on the bow the ship, almost at the very edges. The morning was a brilliant amber and he could feel the sun on his back, soothingly warm even when against his fire. His hair fell about his face wildly, consequence of the wind that caressed his form. Ace couldn't help a small smile. It was a good morning. A good day._

"_Morning, Oyaji!"_

_Haruta was practically bouncing on her heels as she beamed up at her father. A large grin adorned the much older pirate's face._

Whitebeard laughed loudly. "_Someone's excited this morning." He gestured for his tankard to be re-filled._

_Marco, who stood off to the side, only shook his head as the nurses protested, only succeeding in eliciting a grumbled dismissal from the captain. "Oyaji," the blonde began, as Ace knew he would. He did so every morning. "Can't you at least lower your alcohol intake? Drink a little less?"_

_A thin line of fondness warmed the insides of the fire-user when their father only eyed Marco distastefully, as if the phoenix had suggested he cut off his own arms to eat._

"_Why would I do that, brat?" Whitebeard laughed that unique laugh of his again at Marco's sullen expression. (He had only twitched an eyebrow, but that was Marco.) "What kind of example would I be if I held back on the beer?"_

_Marco looked resigned. "Oyaji…"_

_Sometimes, Ace wondered why he even tried. No one ever won an argument against Oyaji. Heck, with Oyaji, there wasn't even an argument. Marco looked off to the side, though not before giving Whitebeard one last disapproving look._

_Thatch appeared then. "Come on, Whitebeards!" he was yelling to the crew. "The storm's over! Get a move on!"_

"_Where to?" someone hollered back._

"_Anywhere with food! We're running out of stock!"_

_This declaration was met with several shouts of disbelief. Within moments, everyone was moving._

"_Hey, wait!" Marco rushed back to the deck. When had he disappeared? "Someone's missing."_

_Ace tensed. They had found out he was gone. They already knew. Oh shit. Oh no- what was he going to do? Maybe it wasn't- He shut up at the next question._

_Whitebeard leaned forward in concern. "Who is it, son?"_

_Marco frowned. "…Ace?" he said after a moment, as if unsure if he got it right._

Damn it. _The teen prepared for his father to explode._

"_Ace?" their captain repeated._

_Thatch looked surprised. "Ace is missing?"_

_To Ace's surprise, Whitebeard leaned back on his chair, looking thoughtful. "Do we know why he left?"_

_Marco shook his head. "No idea."_

_Ace looked indignant. He left a letter on his bed for them! …hadn't he?_

"_What should we do, Oyaji?" Marco was asking, and Ace shook himself out of it._

_He expected Whitebeard to stop the ship immediately, or perhaps round everyone up to discover where he had gone. To his greatest shock, his father only shrugged._

"_There's no point in chasing down a brat who sees no life with us."_

_Ace gasped. Oyaji? Why was he saying that!? Of course he did! He saw his _entire_ life with the crew, from the moment of his initiation to his last breath, he had envisioned them to be by his side and he theirs!_

"_That's true," Thatch said thoughtfully, his fingers on his chin. "Well, I guess it's a relief anyway."_

_Ace felt as if something had reached into his chest, grabbed his heart and tore it out from the confines of his ribcage. Felt as if a spiked shoe had promptly stamped on it before putting it back._

"_A great relief," Izo corrected. Soon enough, the pirates around them were agreeing._

"_He's been such a pain. Hiding out in his room like a coward. Making those annoying sad expressions. Hell, he treated us as if we upset him every second of the day! Like it's our fault he's so unhappy," Haruta piped up._

_Jozu nodded his head in agreement. "I couldn't take his stupid self-pity streak anymore and just had to deck him with a bottle. Didn't expect it to hit his head but guess that woke him up, huh?"_

"_You decked him with a bottle?"_

"_A glass bottle."_

_Someone whistled in approval. "Well done, Jozu!"_

_Ace looked down at his chest and wasn't in the least surprised to find blood seeping through the gaping hole where his heart should be. It dripped, sliding down his bare skin, drenching his pants before pooling at his feet. He felt numb. This couldn't be happening._

"_Is this true, Marco?" Whitebeard asked the silent blonde._

_Ace bit his trembling lip, turning his gaze to the first commander. His heart died when Marco agreed._

"_It's true, Oyaji. He's been exploding on our brothers as and when he sees fit. He treats us like the plague and no one dares to approach him lest he set them on fire."_

"_I see." Whitebeard nodded. "You should have told me earlier, son. At least he solved the issue by leaving himself." With that, the pirate laughed, though the sound this time didn't warm the listening teen's insides as it usually would. Instead, his heart would have broken if it wasn't already in pieces._

"_Oyaji!" Thatch interrupted. "What about his mark? He can't wear your mark if he's not one of us."_

_Marco sighed at this. He held up a hand. "It's okay, Oyaji. We'll track him down and remove it before he's gone too far."_

_The teen gasped, immediately taking a step back, as if that would protect him from them. Quite suddenly, the ship has gone quiet and he realised every single pirate had turned to look at him. He froze. Their gazes were icy and empty. He tried to pull his eyes away but he felt trapped like mice would before the gaping snarl of a snake. _

"_O-oyaji," he whispered as he inched backwards._

_The next thing he knew, he was screaming and falling back into darkness._

* * *

_I want to embrace you and never let you go  
Almost hope you're in heaven so no one can hurt your soul  
Living in agony cause I just do not know where you are_

* * *

Ace jerked into awareness.

His breath came in heavy gasps, his fingers clutching the edges of the worn blanket tightly. His hair stuck to his forehead in clumps and sweat slid down his neck. He could feel his heart pounding and for one insane moment, his fingers snapped to touch at his chest. His heart was beating, he realised with relief. Beating. It couldn't beat if his heart wasn't there, right? It was just a dream. Just a dream, he assured himself. He just had to step out of bed and pretend nothing was wrong. He'd see for himself that his brothers weren't- _shit_.

He wasn't on the Moby Dick.

He looked around him, his eyes wide. This wasn't…his room. For one thing, his room didn't have rows of wanted posters lining one side of his walls. He didn't have a black wardrobe at the foot of the bed or a dresser, and he was very, _very_ sure he didn't have a huge poster of himself beside his bed.

Something mumbled beside him and he whipped around, only to see someone curling up next to him. Recognising the brown tresses, Ace let out a breath, inhaled and promptly shrieked.

He scrambled off the bed and tumbled to the floor. To his embarrassment – and mounting horror – he realised he was clad only in shorts that ended inches above his knees.

"What?" Henry's sleepy voice came from somewhere on the bed.

"What did you do?!" Ace shouted, pulling the fallen covers over his chest. Confused dark eyes met his. "What did you do!"

"What did I do?" Henry muttered, appearing annoyed at the wake-up call. He quickly held up his hands when one of the teen's hands turned to fire. "I brought you back home. I expected some gratitude but obviously that's beyond you."

Ace flushed. _That's what he meant by bringing me home?!_ He backed away when the brunette moved to get out of bed. "Stay where you are!" he demanded.

Henry's features morphed into anger. "Hey, I _saved_ your life last night. Some pirates were going to have a go at you but I drove them away. I brought you here so you won't have to face that drunk, alone and outside and _this_ is how you're going to treat me under my own roof?"

Ace could only gape at the man. Just how drunk had he been? Marco's words returned to him.

_So don't get drunk, Ace. _Especially_ if we aren't there with you._

Well done, Ace, he thought sarcastically. One night away from the Moby Dick and already you've made a mess of yourself. I hope you're proud. Goodness knows your family won't be.

At that thought, something inside him sank. He recalled the nightmare he had, remembered their looks of relief that he was finally gone, and now the only one who was putting up with him was mad. So what if they had...? As long as he was still his friend, that was okay, right? He heard a long, drawn-out sigh as Henry knelt in front of him.

"Look, Fire Fist. I get you might be having the rough morning, what's with the hangover, but let's not argue over nothing, alright?"

Ace peered at him through his bangs. "I just…I didn't expect, I mean…" he trailed off, gesturing to himself and then to Henry, eyes downcast.

"Expect what?" the man prompted. Then, as if struck by lightning, he fell over himself as he backed away violently. Ace frowned, bemused.

"You thought we..?" Henry ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. He took one look at the fire-user and sighed. "Fire Fist, I mean, Ace," he said exasperatedly. "Nothing happened."

Ace perked up at this. Nothing?

The bartender waved his finger in front of the teen. "No-thing," he repeated. "You threw up last night, all over yourself, I might add. Apart from saving you the complete disgust in having to wake up in soiled attire, I didn't want to dirty my bed sheets either. Secondly, I live on my own so I don't have an extra bed." He frowned. "Didn't think you were the type to freak out at sharing though."

Ace spluttered, "I so can share!"

Much to his consternation, Henry waved him away. "I'm sure. In any case, take this as revenge for kicking my face."

"I kicked your face?"

"With your boot," the brunette confirmed. He rubbed at his cheek. "Even though you're a pirate, you don't sleep with your shoes on, though you?"

Ace looked sheepish. "Oh, right. I don't." He scratched at his hair. "Sorry?"

Henry snorted. "Apology accepted. Now get up so we can have breakfast. Your clothes are in the laundry. You should be able to dry them with your fire."

"Right."

Ace got to his feet, though he opted to bring the blankets with him. He resolutely ignored his host when the latter rolled his eyes at him as he marched towards the laundry in the kitchen. Like the bedroom, the kitchen was small. It had a small back room for the laundry. A tinge of guilt tugged at him when he noted his pants had been washed and hung to dry. Henry must have washed it before he headed to bed. He sighed. He must have caused a lot of trouble for the man.

As he changed into his usual attire, a thought occurred to him. He moved back to the bedroom to check if he had really seen it or if he had truly lost his mind. He wouldn't be surprised if he had.

Stepping inside, he confirmed the unsettled feeling in his gut.

Taking centre place of the wall adjacent to the bed was the blown-up wanted poster of himself.

Fuck. It wasn't his imagination.

* * *

_I'll keep on trying until my dying day_

* * *

"Is it this one?"

"No," Marco replied. He glanced at the paper in his hands. "Up another street."

Both of them ran up the street and took a turn to the right. According to people at the bar, their dear brother had gotten himself drunk before being happily whisked away by some brave (but stupid, Marco inwardly thought) soul before the bar closed. Even better, it had been the fucking owner of the bar. If Marco was certain of anything, that bar wasn't going to be open for much longer.

"Why are we saving that idiot again?" Thatch asked, a frown marring his features. "I swear, I've never heard of a pirate needing rescuing from…this sort of thing."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Because he's our youngest and he doesn't know any better."

"We should have talked to him about this! Hell, _Oyaji_ should have!"

For a moment, Marco looked horrified. "You're not seriously suggesting-"

Thatch shrugged. "He's the dad," he answered.

The image of Oyaji sitting Ace down in his room as he went over the subject and Ace turning a bright red filled his mind. He grimaced. "Suffice to say, Thatch," Marco said. "Ace _really_ doesn't know. I doubt he even thinks about it. How old is he? Seventeen going on eighteen?"

"You'd be surprised."

"I really don't want to be." For all his temper and bravado, Marco knew Ace was as ignorant as a child when it came to these matters.

"Well, damn. Come on, hurry up, birdbrain! It's already morning."

Marco scowled at the nickname but quickened his pace anyway. One look at the sky and he knew they had already been too late. In any case, at least they could beat the little daredevil who had dared even think about Ace that way. Both of them skidded to a halt at the front of a small one-floor apartment. Huh, he thought. He would have expected a grander house if the house owner and the bar owner were one and the same.

Flicking the address another glance, Marco felt his inner feathers ruffle in unrest. "Let's go."

Thatch kicked open the door and began yelling for Ace. The first commander sighed. _Not that way, you moron_. Following dutifully after his brother, he stopped when Thatch froze in his tracks.

In front of them, a brunette was leaning over the prone form of their brother, who was lying on his side, pale and unmoving.

Thatch was the first to act.

"_GET AWAY FROM HIM!_"

* * *

_Lost in the darkness, try to find your way home_

* * *

Ace blinked blearily, feeling something shake his shoulders. He lifted his head. "Huh?" he mumbled.

His vision came into focus to reveal a frowning Marco staring down at him. His eyes widened. "M-Marco?"

A look of relief cross the older's face and the grip on his arms softened. "Ace," Marco breathed. "Thank goodness you're fine."

"What are you…" Ace slowly set up, confused, but he didn't push the commander away. "What's…" he trailed off again as his gaze zeroed in on Thatch holding the edge of a sword to Henry's neck.

His eyes met Henry's frightened ones.

He shoved Marco away. "What are you doing?!" he shouted. "Let him go!"

At his voice, Thatch involuntarily – that better be involuntary! – jerked, drawing a thin line of blood from his captive's skin. "Ace?! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Ace got to his feet. "I said to let him go, Thatch," he said through gritted teeth. "Put that sword away."

Thatch narrowed his eyes but a glance at Marco had him drawing back. However, his sword remained firmly in his hands. Henry watched his movements, wary. The moment Thatch was a sword-breadth away from him, he jerked his head towards the door.

"Now get out," he said coldly. "All of you."

Thatch almost snarled, "Why you- after all you did-"

Ace rushed to stand between the bartender and his brothers. "Shut up! What the hell is wrong with you?!" he snapped. He turned back to Henry and immediately looked beseeching. "Henry, look. I'm sorry. I swear I didn't know they'd-"

Henry cut in, "I don't care for your excuses, Fire Fist. I have taken care of you and it has brought me nothing but trouble. Had you woken up just a little later, I doubt my head would still be where it is." He pinned the teen with a harsh glare. "Now out," he repeated.

"Don't speak to our brother like that, you perverted piece of crap!" Thatch interrupted, bristling from the words 'taken care of'.

Ace closed his eyes, briefly wanting to shoot himself to escape from their utter stupidity. "Thatch! I said stop it!"

The bartender narrowed his eyes. He added coolly, "Yes, stop it and get out."

Thatch sneered, "Of course you want us out, considering you've had your way with him. Did you think we'd just leave it at that? Even if our naïve, _teenage_ brother had agreed?"

For the second time that morning, Ace gaped in horror. He turned scarlet, his mouth struggling to come up with something. For his part, Henry only sighed.

"No!" Ace finally shouted, his voice an octave higher than usual. He waved his hands about. "Nothing happened!"

The fourth commander affected an incredulous expression. "Ace," he said slowly. "He was leaning over you when you were unconscious."

"I was checking if he was alright!" Henry snapped.

"And why was he unconscious in the first place?" the chef fired back.

"_Because_," Ace cut in, his voice strained. "I have _narcolepsy_, remember?"

Silence.

Thatch froze and lowered his weapon, looking sheepish. "Oh. Right." He scratched the back of his neck and held up his arms at Ace's furious expression. "You'd get the wrong idea too if you saw someone putting their grabby paws all over you while you were out cold!"

Marco took the increasingly aggravated bar owner's expression as his cue to step in. "Thatch," he said smoothly. "He wasn't putting any grabby paws on Ace. He was just leaning over him. Ace, please step away from him." He turned to the only non-pirate in the room. "And…your name is Henry, I presume?" At the tense nod, Marco dipped his head in apology. "I apologise for my brother's uncouth behaviour. However, I would require you to explain what this means." He pointed to Ace's wanted poster.

"Oh, yeah, that," Ace muttered as he stepped closer towards his brothers, feeling strangely safer from their closeness alone. "I was going to ask about that when I fell asleep." Marco closed a hand around his wrist and drew him nearer.

This time, Henry looked away. "It's none of your business."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "It is our business if somehow our brother is made a target. For some reason, you have a special interest in him. Speak," he snapped. "Or nothing in this island can save you."

"Marco…" Ace protested from beside him but was gently shushed.

Henry must have caught on to the seriousness of the phoenix's threat and finally relented. "My father…hung it there." Quite suddenly, he began to speak in earnest. "He had always wanted to be a pirate. To sail the seas, to be part of a crew. For adventure. That's what he called it." He looked down. "He couldn't do it, of course. He was on the frail side. Couldn't fight for his life. He tried once. He was seventeen when he joined a crew who were willing to take him in and all he did was clean the ship. And, fuck, he was grateful for that.

"Then, one day, his crew was attacked and his friend was killed trying to save him. I'm sure you'd understand that that turned him away from the life of piracy completely. Even so, he couldn't turn his back on the life he wanted so badly. He began collecting wanted posters and kept them up at the bar, at home." He scoffed. "The only ties of piracy he could hold on to were some pathetic pieces of paper."

His dark eyes locked with Ace's intensely. "But then you came along. A seventeen-year-old kid taking to the seas on his _own_, a Captain. A kid who took on Whitebeard and became part of that crew. You can't imagine how happy my father had been. So ridiculously happy that someone was living his dream for him. He wanted to meet you so badly, Fire Fist." He shrugged tiredly. "Like I said, it's like a fan who would put up posters of their favourite celebrity on their bedroom wall."

Ace bit his lip. _Oh._ "I thought you said you lived here alone," he finally said, his voice small.

Henry sneered at him. "I do. My father's dead. Killed by pirates a few weeks ago."

Ace's gaze darted up to look at the brunette. His voice grew even smaller. "Oh." A realisation then struck him. "You wanted me to visit his grave," he blurted.

The bartender flinched.

"I still could if you-"

Henry stopped him. "No," he said shortly. "I wasn't lying when I said I enjoyed speaking to you, Fire Fist. But from recent events, you've proved you're more trouble than you're worth." He pointed to the door, ignoring the dark looks the older pirates sent him. "Now get out."

The three pirates moved to leave the house, though Ace managed to whisper a 'sorry' before Marco tugged him along, stopping only when the door slammed.

"Why did you come?" Ace said quietly when none deigned to speak.

Marco and Thatch traded worried looks.

The first commander opted for the gently route. "You disappeared. We were…worried."

"So you don't even trust me to take care of my own back? Is that it, Marco?" Ace snapped.

Thatch held up his hands. "Whoa there, Ace. Calm down. We're sorry for that guy inside but you _disappeared_. Missing. Gone. No explanation." He snapped his fingers. "Don't you think we'd try to find you? What if you were kidnapped or something? What's going to happen then?"

Ace opened his mouth to retort but fell short as he processed the other's words. "Wait. What do you mean by 'no explanation'? I left a note on my bed!"

Marco unfolded his arms. "You did?" He looked at Thatch. "But we didn't see anything." A second later and understanding crossed his features. He groaned. He turned to Thatch and glared at him. "You must have thrown it to the floor when you messed up his room."

Thatch spluttered indignantly, "What? This is my fault?"

Ace looked between them in confusion. "You messed up my room?"

Marco sighed, the headache returning full-force. What a stupid misunderstanding. "Okay, Thatch, shut up." At Thatch's hurt expression, he glared. "Please. I have a headache. Ace, what did the letter say?"

The teen frowned at the change in subject but relented at the tired look on the commander's face. "I said I needed a breather and was going out for a while, but that I'd return soon."

For some reason, instead of the scolding he thought he'd receive, Marco smiled in relief? at him while Thatch – the annoying moron – tackled him into a hug.

"Uhh, Thatch?"

"Shut up, you heartbreaker!"

"Can't breathe!"

Marco rolled his eyes and pulled them away from each other. "Okay, that's enough." He ruffled the brat's hair, smirking at the annoyed glare. "We'll explain to you on the way, Ace. Although we really have to talk about you disappearing like that. How would you find us without a vivre card, huh? Oh, and you'd have to endure having Thatch sharing your skiff with you."

"What? Why?"

"We didn't bring a boat."

Ace sounded confused. "Then how did you get here?"

Thatch snorted. "Flew here on a chicken. OW! Okay okay! What the hell ruffled your feathers? Ow ow ow! Stop it!"

Ace watched them, a sudden rush of fondness sending a small smile tugging at his lips. He could still feel the warmth of Marco's hand on his head and he had to refrain from reaching up to touch that spot. They came for him. They were bringing him home. A second later and the smile fell.

"_You've proved you're more trouble than you're worth."_

He turned downcast eyes to the floor. He had troubled them too, hadn't he? No matter that they still cared, how long more until they wouldn't anymore?

The two pirates must have sensed the change in his mood, for Thatch quickly blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Ace, it was a _blue_ chicken."

A sigh.

"Thatch, you better run."

The rest of their stay on the island consisted of Thatch sprinting from them as Marco pulled Ace along with him, mentally noting that Ace's mood was quickly improving as they both made it a race to get to the fourth commander first. No one needed to know if Marco had 'accidentally' slipped, causing him to lag behind.

The smile when Ace had tackled the chef to the ground was like staring at the sun.

* * *

**There it is. My first pathetic attempt at humour to lighten up this fic and...no cliffhanger! I almost ended at the "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"**

**On another note, did anyone catch on to what Thatch was referring to? Re-cap:**

Marco rolled his eyes. "Because he's our youngest and he doesn't know any better."

"We should have talked to him about this! Hell, _Oyaji_ should have!"

For a moment, Marco looked horrified. "You're not seriously suggesting-"

Thatch shrugged. "He's the dad," he answered.

**Oops. Couldn't resist.**

**Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! I hope the chapter was okay. :)**


	11. Warring Within

**Hey everyone!**

**If you have been following my other fic "Stuck", then here's the chapter as promised!**

**But gosh this was one hard chapter to write. The plot didn't move overly much but the next chapter is where we finally, finally see the pirates in action. This chapter is akin to a filler, but it is also quite necessary as it focuses more on Ace and how he's dealing with everything.**

**To all my reviewers, those who followed and favourite-d this fic, thank you so much. I might never have returned without you guys.**

**And again, the warnings:**

**WARNING:  
****Please read this before you go on to the story. I do _not_ personally know anyone who has ever suffered from depression before. Any information on depression I used is from my own research on the Internet. If I wrote or will write anything that doesn't reflect or represent depression correctly, I'm truly sorry. I do not seek to offend. If you have any issues, please PM me or something and let me know so I can make the necessary changes. Thank you.**

**SECOND WARNING:  
Yes, this fic is about a depressed Ace. I am NOT, by any means, advocating that his actions are correct or advisable. If you are depressed and I can help in any way, I'm here. BUT please do _NOT _take anything from this fic as a piece of advice. Ace is behaving the way he is because he is depressed. Marco, Thatch, Izo and all the rest because they are clueless on how to handle it. Please be forewarned that I am no expert on the subject.**

* * *

_A shot in the dark  
\- _A Shot in the Dark _by _Within Temptation

* * *

Two weeks had passed since their return to the Moby Dick, but it was a moment that was freshly still imbued in one Portgas D. Ace's mind, one that sent chilling pangs straight through his heart.

To say the three pirates had been in trouble was a huge understatement. The moment the first commander's trademark blue flames could be seen from the Moby Dick, the usual uproarious noise had died like a wisp of a flame under a storm. The silence had been hair-raisingly eerie even as Ace and Thatch climbed aboard. Their brothers and sisters had then proceeded to open a path up for them which led straight to their father, who had cast them a look of such disappointment that Ace felt inclined to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

...except he hadn't. His brothers had warned him on their journey back to shut up and let them handle it. Of course they hadn't specifically told him outright to keep his trap shut, but their warning looks had said it all. After all, it took all but a simple nudge from the chef to seal his lips even as Marco took the brunt of the blame.

"_I know it was hasty and careless, yoi. But I had already accepted the dare and it would be a dishonour to go back on my word on account of some flimsy rain." Marco gestured to Thatch and Ace. "They insisted on tagging along."_

_Their adoptive father narrowed his gaze. For a moment, there seemed to be a battle of wills between the first mate and captain as each stared the other down. To no one's surprise, however, Marco broke his gaze first and muttered out an apology._

_Whitebeard leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking between the three pirates. His frown remained stern. "I expected better of you, son," he finally said. It sounded like a kick to the stomach._

_The commander of the first division lowered his head to stare at the floor. In other circumstances, the way the infamous pirate resembled a child who had just been handed down punishment for misbehaviour would have appeared comical. This, was just plain depressing._

"_I'm sorry, yoi," he repeated, his voice subdued as it carried through the wind._

When the blonde had turned to them, nothing in the four damned seas could have prepared the freckled teen for the moment he caught the shadowed look on his brother's face. It tore a pain right into his chest. It made him want to cry. Somehow, Marco must have seen something on his face for the look vanished, quickly replaced it with an assuring smile.

Even then, neither Thatch nor Ace had been spared reprimand and had been sentenced to staying in their rooms until further notice. Food was brought to them, though no one stayed long enough beyond a knock and the occasional sympathetic look. On the fourth day, however, Izo had all but dumped a tray of sandwiches on the desk before swiftly grabbing the fire-user into a bone-crushing hug that he swore left bruises on his skin. The kimono-clad pirate had given him a warm smile before he too left in a flurry of grace and silk.

Ace gave out a long, drawn-out sigh. He slid down the side of one wall, his legs sprawled limply on the floor.

"Tick tock, tick tock," he muttered under his breath.

It had been fourteen days of plain, pure torture.

He felt a profound emptiness well up inside him. No- it was only deepening. It had started out small, but the days of nothing but silence and the crashing of the waves and creaking of the ship seemed to feed it an aching hollowness that crept beneath his skin and sank into his bones. Like a magnetic field that dragged him down until it was too heavy for him to move. He supposed he should be grateful that he wasn't to leave his quarters. He didn't even want to get out of bed. The only reason he did was to escape the sickening homey comfort of his bedsheets that practically reeked of good things that he did not deserve.

Ace let his hand fall to his chest. He allowed Marco to lie through his teeth for him, made them abandon the ship for _him_. He may bear the mark of Whitebeard, yet he was only a coward behind that symbol of strength and power.

"Failure."

The pirate's features twisted in surprise. Huh? He just said that…didn't he? "Fail-ure," he repeated, drawing the word out slow. "Fail. Failure." His lips parted as he mouthed the words to himself as if trying to test how it felt on his tongue.

_Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure._

Marco's dejected look flashed through his mind again and the resulting guilt shoved him forward to press his hands against his face. "Failure," he told himself. "You made Marco lie to Oyaji. You made Marco upset." _How could you do that? How could you how could you how could you- A burden. A troublesome thing they'd be better off without. You-_

Ace's eyes snapped open as he vaguely began to realise the downward spiral he was rushing headlong into. "No," he whispered, his voice loud and harsh against his own ears. His voice grew louder. "No! No no no no no. Don't think that way. You can't think that way. _Why are you thinking that way?!_"

His family- _Luffy_. He needed him to survive. He'd promised Luffy he would never leave him behind. He wasn't supposed to have any regrets. His nails dug into his scalp. Marco and-and Thatch? They came for him, right? That meant he must mean something to them, right? That meant they wanted him to be okay, _right_?

_But you're not okay_, something dark hissed within the recesses of his mind. _They want a strong, confident brother. That's not you, you incompetent fool._

Ace let out a moan. No! Thing of good stuff, he wanted to snarl, but it fell flat in his own head. He had to do better. He had to _become_ better so his family would want him. Never again could he allow himself to put such expressions of upset on his family's faces. He must _never_ give them a reason to want him gone. The only thing he had was family.

He had nothing else.

Good times, Ace, he urged himself. Think of the good times, of pranks and food and Luffy and Dadan, Makino-san, Sab-

His breath hitched. No. Something that didn't involve the people he cared for hurting or dying or-

"FUCKING HELL!"

A burst of raw frustration tore through him. _Shut. Up!_

Shooting to his feet, he began to walk frantically in circles before making a dash for his dresser and ripping its contents out till it was empty. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up." He then curled his fingers beneath the wooden sides, heaved and, with a grimace, hurled the wooden article and slammed it against the floor. He kicked the remains of his dresser and crushed them beneath his bare feet. "Fucking head won't _shut the fuck up!_" he snarled.

Ace felt his flames build beneath his skin. Bright orange flickered on the palm of his hand and he was just about ready to set fire to it when he froze, his grey eyes sweeping over the mess of broken wood and scattered clothes on his floor. He darted a glance at the now empty space where his dresser once stood- dark and ugly in his already bare room. "What am I…?" What was he doing? He stared blankly at the destruction around him, as if surprised at his own brutality.

_Told you so._

And just like that, all energy seemed to sap from his body. He let out a mumble: "It just won't shut up."

He sniffed, feeling drained. The teen dropped his hands as he moved sluggishly to his bed and all but fell on it. He buried his head against his mattress.

There was no escape. There was a muted noise somewhere and Ace withdrew into himself. He snorted tiredly to himself. And he wanted to surpass his father. Yeah, right. He was still so weak.

And he had no idea what to do.

* * *

_Cause your soul is on fire  
A shot in the dark  
What did they aim for when they missed your heart?_

* * *

Jozu walked the perimeter of the deck, his perpetual scowl firmly fixed on his hard features. His brothers and sisters kept out of his way, possibly noting the dangerous aura he was sure he was emitting, though a select few bounded up to him now and then to try and "loosen up his gruff exterior". It wouldn't surprise him if his father had noticed too. He was hardly this restless.

It had been two weeks since Marco and Thatch and their resident runaway (that little punk, he inwardly muttered) returned. He knew from the first commander's dark look that he wasn't to give anything away. So he remained silent as Marco cooked up some lame excuse that their excursion had been part of a dare, though part of him rebelled against the very idea of lying to his adoptive father. But the pirate didn't have all the details and he trusted the blonde enough to know the latter would never do anything to hurt his family. And if it meant he had to lie, well, things must be pretty screwed up for things to go that far.

Yet it was with impatience and slight concern that he went below deck, having decided he had enough of blue open skies and happy chatter. Contrary to pupular belief, Jozu was no bulky man with no brains. He knew his strength. Maybe he had hit Ace so hard that the kid took it a little too close to heart? And he hadn't rushed to apologise either. Not that that was enough to drive their youngest away.

…right?

A few weeks back and the answer would be obvious. But the kid had been different the past few weeks.

The third commander shook his head. And now _he_ was thinking silly thoughts now. Both Marco and Thatch must be rubbing off on him. Huh, those two idiots. They must be really wrung dry if they thought no one had noticed their sudden attentiveness over Ace. The way first commander would take on twice his number of shifts, most of which coincided with one particular narcolepsy-prone pirate, and how the dining tables had been laden only with Ace's favourite food, with select healthy dishes at the side.

A series of crashes broke through his thoughts and Jozu looked up in alarm. Surprise, surprise. He was in the hallway Ace's room was on. Another loud thud and what sounded like a muffled shout resounded through the corridor again and the next thing he knew, he was knocking on the door.

"Ace?"

Silence answered him.

"Ace?" he repeated, feeling uneasy. A few moments ticked by in eerie quiet. He knocked again, louder this time, and was just about break down the door, irate little brothers be damned, when the wooden appendage clicked open to reveal a hair-tousled fire-user.

Ace looked surprised. "Jozu?"

"I heard something from your room. Is everything alright?"

The freckled teen was quick (maybe a little too quick, his mind supplied) to answer: "Oh. Oh, it was nothing."

The third commander raised an eyebrow at partially hidden pirate. "Are you going to stay behind the door like that?"

A hint of red crept up Ace's cheeks and he slipped out of his room, the door pulled shut behind him. Jozu barely kept from frowning. Was that a huge wooden splinter he saw on the floor? Before he could dwell on it further, his brother spoke.

"So what brings you here?"

"What's going on?" the commander asked instead.

"Nothing!" Ace choked out. His grey eyes darted up and down the hallway before returning to the older man. "I-I was bored! And thought that I could, uh, you know, experiment! With my attacks. And it got a little messy in there." Another nervous laugh ended his explanation.

Oh. Jozu took one look at his fidgeting little brother and somehow, something didn't seem right. "You do realise you're made of fire?" Huh. No, that wasn't what worried him. Ace was an idiot too, but he wasn't that bad a guy.

Ace, who at first seemed to shrink under his scrutiny, straightened at his question. "I won't blow up my room!" he shouted as a flash of anger swept through his childish features.

Jozu raised his hands in surrender. "I never said you would. But you will be testing out moves you have never tried before, or add intensity to your current ones. That gives a lot of room for mistakes and accidents."

"Oh yeah? Then you think wro- oh."

Jozu placed an arm on the teen's shoulder, not missing the jump as the latter peered up at him in surprise."Are you okay, Ace?"

Ace shuffled his feet, his gaze glancing down the hallway again. "Yeah, I am!" A strained smile pulled at his lips and the fire-user scratched at the back of his head. "I'm just feeling a little cooped up in here and I really want to, you know, get out and feel some fresh air." He punched the other's arm playfully. "Thanks for worrying but I'm just…yeah."

"Two weeks a little too long, huh?" Jozu teased back. "Don't worry too much. I heard Oyaji speaking the other day that he might be releasing you guys soon." He let out a snort. "Ship's a mess without Marco's supervision."

Ace laughed lightly. "I can see how that could happen." He looked down the hallway again.

"What do you keep looking at?"

"Huh?"

Jozu shrugged. "You keep looking down the hallway. What's wrong?" An idea came up in his head and his scowl returned. "Did someone do something? Harass you or anything?"

Ace shook his head, his arms waving wildly. "Oh, no! No, of course not! I'm just not supposed to leave my room yet and…" He gestured to himself, a step outside his quarters.

Oh. The older pirate scratched his chin sheepishly. "Then you'd better get back in, huh."

The fire-user chuckled, the quiet laughter awkward and restrained. "Yeah. I should" – he pointed at his door – "probably head inside."

Jozu forced a smile and was about to turn when he remembered. "Oh, and Ace?"

Ace, who had just placed a hand on the door knob, jerked back. "Y-yeah?" The pirate immediately coloured at the stutter.

The commander looked the younger pirate in the eye, locking onto (anxious?) grey eyes. "I just want to apologise. For the other night. I threw a glass bottle at your head when I was drunk. It was no excuse, Ace, but I truly didn't mean for that to happen and I'm sorry that it did."

For a moment, Ace didn't answer him, gaping instead in what appeared to be surprise before he seemed to wake up to wave him off dismissively. "That was ages ago! I completely forgot." He mock-punched the older man. "It's okay. It really is."

Jozu tilted slowly and offered the other a small smile. "Well, thank you, Ace. You should head back inside."

Ace grinned at him and it wasn't until he turned away that he heard a door click shut. He resisted a look back, knowing Ace was no longer in the hallway.

…

But what the hell was that?

* * *

_Now I'm fighting this war since the day of the fall  
And I'm desperately holding on to it all  
But I'm lost  
I'm so damn lost_

* * *

He could do this. He really believed he could.

He'd been told many times how smart he was. Well, his little brother was _Luffy_, for goodness sake. Someone had to be the smart one lest they get the other – or both – killed. He didn't have a choice.

Ace paced his room, circling around scattered pieces of paper on the floor. What was left of his dresser was pushed against where the furniture once stood and he told himself sternly that he would fix it himself. Or maybe just make the excuse that he put it on fire and get a new one. Oh, no no. Marco wouldn't like that. The blonde had warned him plentiful times to keep his stuff intact and not aflame.

He couldn't help it sometimes though. His fire was _part_ of him. They wanted out as much as he needed fresh air.

The fire-user shook his head and tried to focus on his current project on self-analysis. At one corner of his scribbled mess, he had written all his "symptoms", as he saw it, listing them down and citing the possible reasons behind them. Some of them went:

\- INSOMNIA: Too much energy to burn off? Have been lying around in bed / Not doing much of anything.  
\- FEEL DOWN A LOT: Never felt down around Luffy. Probably miss him a lot after so long apart / Hadn't been on adventures as much as when captain of Spades Pirates, probably a little bored of tame life with experienced pirates  
\- SMALL APPETITE: Too much energy, more food = more energy!  
\- TEARS A BIT: Frustrated at how life is going? No Luffy, no adventures, little food?  
\- GETS UPSET EASILY: See "TEARS A BIT"

Okay, so maybe he didn't have all the answers but it was a start. If he could find out why he was behaving like some little lost child, he could solve it and move on, right? And in the meantime, he could begin to come up with temporary solutions to tone down these "symptoms". His family would be less suspicious and he'd upset less people. A win-win situation, in his opinion. Oh, and he was actually doing _something_ to make things better instead of wallowing in his…in himself.

"It sounds so stupid though," he mumbled. Ace rolled his eyes when he read what he had written. Was he that upset because he missed Luffy? But he couldn't think of anything else. Oh. Or perhaps he was tired of staying at one location. He was, after all, stuck on Dawn Island for 17 years. Maybe some part of his subconscious was associating long periods of time in one place with the potential loss of something he cared about. He did lose Sabo when he was very young. And almost Luffy and Dadan too.

"But that sounds even more ridiculous…"

The teen gave out a sigh. He was all wrong. He was sure of it. _But what else could it be?_

It had scared him so badly when Jozu had come knocking. The guy had looked _concerned_, for pirates' sake! Ace was worrying people left and right and that had to stop. He had to do something. For his family. For himself.

For the moment, the heavy feeling inside him had lightened after Jozu had apologised and it was something the freckled pirate was going to take full advantage of. Find a solution before those stupid feelings returned.

And the first temp solution was…write to Luffy.

He muttered, "Sounds like a plan, mister."

* * *

_I breathe underwater, it's all in my hands  
What can I do? Don't let it fall apart_

* * *

Marco resisted the urge to fidget like a five-year-old under his father's stern look. Whitebeard had called for his attendance at the commanders' meeting despite his official suspension from duty, though Thatch had been exempted. At the conclusion of the meeting, however, he had been requested to remain even as his siblings shot him sympathetic looks as they left.

After about five minutes of silent staring (though he kept his gaze trained solely on the floor), the Yonko finally spoke. "What have you been up these two weeks, Marco?"

The pirate in question shrugged. "Caught up on my paperwork and did some reading, yoi."

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow at the answer. "I ground you to your room and you did work?"

Marco furrowed his eyebrows at the flash of disapproval. "I was being punished. Of course I-" he stopped as realisation set in. Oh. "I did…rest a bit."

"Did you?"

The Phoenix let out a tired chuckle, feeling something warm curl tight in his stomach. "Yeah, I did, yoi." He wasn't lying. He had spent many, many hours lying around in bed doing nothing but stare at the ceiling.

His adoptive father's lips curled into a wide smile as he pulled his tankard of alcohol to chug down his throat. "That's good to hear, son." He set the tankard down, straightening to pat the chair next to him. Marco came forward obediently and laughed when the older pirate flicked at his hair.

Whitebeard turned serious. "And how is Ace faring?"

Marco wasn't even surprised. Of course his father knew. He had suspected it all along but the strain of keeping it secret – and the _outright lying_ – from the man was pulling at his every nerve.

"So I guess you know."

The Yonko looked knowingly at him. "He's my son. What do you think?" He guffawed. "That brat is as excitable as a five-year-old. Whatever's happened, the change is deeply alarming."

The first commander agreed. "It's like his light was snuffed out of him." Something occurred to the first mate then and he inhaled sharply, darting an expression of dismay at his father. "Hold on, yoi. That means you know…"

"Do I know you lied to me two weeks ago? Yes, I do."

Marco coloured in shame. He averted his gaze. "I'm sorry, Oyaji." A warm hand on his shoulder stopped from continuing. He looked up to see his father smiling kindly at him.

"I'm certain you wouldn't have done that if the situation hadn't called for it." He paused and Marco was sure he caught a glint of pride gleam in the other's eyes. "You've worked hard, son."

Oyaji… "I lied to you, yoi." The first commander froze when a finger pushed gently at his forehead.

"That's enough. I trust you."

A grin began to stretch at the corners of his lips, until it morphed into a beam. For the first time in weeks, Marco felt something inside him lighten. "Oyaji… Thank you. That means, a lot."

Whitebeard let out a rumble. "That you felt the need to keep the truth from me can only mean things have gotten serious. Come now, tell me about this problem. I'm already involved, aren't I?" he added at what must have been a look of conflict on the blonde's countenance.

Well, when he put it _that_ way, it wasn't like the Phoenix told on Ace, right?

"I guess you are now, yoi."

All at once, things didn't seem so bleak anymore.

* * *

_And I'm wondering why I still fight in this life  
Cause I've lost all my faith in this damn bitter strife  
And it's sad  
It's so damn sad_

* * *

Ace bunched up the piece of stupid paper and threw it across the room. Twelve letters down and none of them seemed right!

_You can't even write a letter to your little brother right._

Oh, there it was.

_You must be so proud of yourself. Trying to fight this._

The fire-user hissed under his breath. This was so hard. He picked himself back up and slammed another paper on his desk. He hunched over, a pen tightly clenched between trembling fingers, and started again.

**_Dear Luffy,_**

**_Hey, it's me, Ace. Well, of course it's me. Who else would it be? I don't really know how these letters should go but I'm pretty sure it starts with a 'How do you do' or something like that. So, how are you doing, little brother? I hope things are just as crazy and fun and that you're keeping up with your training. Goodness knows you need that if you're going to sail in __three__\- no, two years from now._**

**_Wow, it's been almost a year since I left. Can you imagine that? I have so many things to tell you. You've probably heard how I formed my own crew, the Spades Pirates, but now I'm part of the Whitebeard pirates. Long story cut short, I finally saw sense and Whitebeard… I call him Oyaji, Luffy. And he calls me his son. A part of me still can't believe it._**

**_Anyway, recently I've spent_**

He stopped. Ace re-read what he wrote and let out a muffled groan. He didn't want to tell his brother he had been doing nothing but stay in his room or about that little runaway escapade a few weeks back. While joining the Whitebeards was something he would never regret, he didn't want to regale _Luffy_ of all people how that happened. Borderline was that he did lose his crew and he did lose a hundred times to one man who barely fought back.

"Hey, Ace?"

Ace straightened and looked towards the door. Marco? There was another knock. Before he could get up, the pirate's voice came through again.

"I'm coming in, yoi."

The door opened and the freckled teen blinked at the sudden appearance of the first commander in his room. Half-lidded blue eyes swept across his room, lingering at the wooden pieces that used to be his dresser, before he raised an eyebrow questioningly at Ace.

Ace came up blank. "I was trying to come up with new attacks..?"

A shadow of a smile tugged at the older man's lips. "That would be more believable if you had told me instead of asking me, yoi."

"But why are you here? Did you need something?" A thought occurred to the fire-user. "Wait. Aren't you grounded?"

The smile changed into a smirk. "I was. Oyaji gave the green light."

Grey eyes widened. That meant…

"You're free to leave your room."

Ace's mind quickly raced through his recent work. Okay, so according to temporary solution number 11, he should react with, in this case, excitement. "I'm free to go?"

Marco nodded. "I believe that's what I said, yoi."

"I can leave my room?"

"Yes."

"And step outside?"

"Yes."

Oh. "Oh."

Just to make sure he was hearing right, Ace added, "Are you sure?"

The blonde looked amused. "Considering I just met with Oyaji, yes, I'm sure, yoi."

Ace inhaled sharply. One, two, three. "That's great! Finally!" he exclaimed, letting out a laugh before he paused, seeming startled at himself. He grinned and there was nothing for it as he threw caution to the wind and threw himself at the shocked commander.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" he said into the Phoenix's neck.

A breathy chuckle answered him as two strong arms encircled around him. The palm of a hand rubbed circles on his tattoo and he gave a sigh.

"If I had known you'd be this happy, I would have come here first, yoi." At Ace's questioning look, he explained, "Thatch was released too. Apparently the kitchens need him and they couldn't wait any longer."

"Oh." Ace perked up. "Oh! It's going to be dinner soon, right?" He pulled back and began to bounce on the soles of his feet. "Let's go let's go." His hand found its way to Marco's hand and he tugged the blonde along with him, mind solely focused on getting straight to the mess hall.

A jerk on his hand stopped him and he whirled around to see Marco staring at him, a strange look on his face.

"What is it? Are you not hungry?"

"You are very energetic today, yoi."

Damn it. Was he pulling it on too thick? He can't even do this right, could he? Ace laughed nervously at the expectant look. "I've been in my room for two weeks, Marco. A guy's got to burn off all that extra energy."

Marco didn't say anything for a moment, but then his expression cleared and he smiled. He tightened his grip on Ace's hand and pushed them forward. "Dinner will start soon, yoi. If you're lucky, maybe there'd be some dessert before that."

Ace sputtered, just realising that he had grabbed the blonde's hand earlier. "Dessert before dinner?" he weakly asked.

"Why not?"

* * *

_In the blink of an eye, I can see through your eyes  
As I'm lying awake I can still hear their cries_

* * *

[Two weeks later]

Marco gave the report one last check before handing it to Vista. "Check with your division if they need anything more so we can confirm the list before we hit the next island, yoi. You have about two hours."

Vista tugged at his moustache unhappily. "Two hours. That's not enough time to even track down all of them."

The blonde shrugged. "Just get those you can. We'll probably dock some miles away and we won't head in until Oyaji gives the OK." He gestured at the documents. "Get it back to me by then, yoi."

Vista's shoulders slumped. "I'll do what I can."

"Later." Marco gave him a dismissive wave as he headed to the deck. His mind went through all the things he had to do as he mentally ticked another task done. Had his division in order? Check. Gave his final report to Oyaji? Check. Throw Thatch into the ocean before he made another mess? Check. Break up arguments? Check.

They had received reports a few days back of some idiots making a mess on one of their protected islands, Kaiketsu Island. They normally wouldn't send the entire crew but his family had been growing restless and that they had been a few days away was a definite plus. And Oyaji…well, it made his children happy.

"Hey, watch it!"

Marco looked up at the shout to see one fire-user duck as something (a pan?) barely missed his head.

"Sorry about that!" Ace shouted at the passer-by he hit as his feet skidded to run across the deck to escape a still drenched Thatch.

"Get back here, you _little punk_!"

"Can't catch me, old man?" the teenager shot back.

The fourth commander spluttered, "You- Watch me!"

Thatch pumped more energy into his legs and jumped over unsuspecting brothers in his mad dash to get to the kid. To Ace's credit, he dodged between the pirates with practiced ease, even managing to rope in some help from older brothers who never passed up a chance to make Thatch's life harder. Haruta at that moment stuck out her leg and gave a cackle when Thatch fell flat on his face.

"GUHHH," he groaned. He glared at the laughing pirate. "Not fair! He set my hair on fire! My _hair_!"

Marco snorted. Now that he looked closely, the edges of the brown hair was a little singed.

From his side, Ace gaped and threw a fireball that narrowly missed the chef's head, ignoring the latter's yelp. "He tried to trick me into falling overboard!"

"But you _didn't_!"

"Doesn't change the fact you tried! What if I fell in?"

"I would have saved your stupid ass, that's what, you little punk!"

"Or _maybe_ you could avoid throwing me in altogether!"

"But what about my hair?!"

Ace scoffed. "Don't be such a baby. It's only a little burnt."

"B-burnt?!" Thatch took a double take, looking absolutely ridiculous as he looked up to try see his hair. "No!" he moaned.

Ace gave Haruta a high-five before taking off again when Thatch shot up and chased his two younger brothers down. Marco smiled dimly. It did come as a surprise, but Ace had been back to his usual antics after his punishment had concluded. Although his narcolepsy attacks had alarmingly increased, he was back to eating like a black hole, playing pranks on unsuspecting brothers and making a total nuisance of himself. The Phoenix would have felt content had he not known the freckled kid was only pretending.

It was all too obvious, and Marco spent almost his entire life observing people to not notice that. The way he seemed to pause before he reacted, or the random periods of time he spent in his room; but what stood out the most were the emptiness in his once twinkling grey eyes.

"We can see the island!" someone shouted. Uproarious cheers went up.

But Ace was trying hard.

A weight came crashing into him, sending him back a step. Marco glanced down to see a flushed Ace smiling at him sheepishly. "Oops?"

Marco laughed and pulled the kid behind him to easily intercept a raging Thatch.

"Thanks," Ace whispered behind him.

And Marco sure as hell was going to try his hardest along with him.

"No problem, yoi."

* * *

_I'm not done  
It's not over_

_A shot in the dark_

* * *

**That's it. It's shorter than usual but I couldn't cough up more for now.**

**So Ace is finally fighting back against that which ails him, Whitebeard lets on that he knows, the crew suspects something is up and Marco is more determined than ever to help Ace. Here's a sneak peek at the next instalment:**

_"No!" Ace shouted. He dug his heels into the ground, his flames flickering across his shoulders and arms. "I'll do anything, _please_, just stop it!"_

_Shocked brown eyes met his and Thatch shook his head, his lips mouthing what appeared to be 'calm down', but the freckled pirate would have none of it. He wouldn't go through it again. He wouldn't survive it, he knew he wouldn't. This had to stop._

_"I'll do anything," he repeated. "Whatever it takes."_

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